in English, and especially in the
English of an American. It brought the man too near for confidence. They
might easily find themselves involved in a host of common acquaintances,
a fact that would preclude intimate talk. Had he been a Russian the
remoteness of each from the other's world would have made the exchange
of secrets--perhaps of secret griefs--a possibility. Not so with a man
whom one might meet the next time one entered a club in New York. Such a
man might even be.... But he dismissed that alarming thought as out of
the question. Edith wasn't at Berne. If she had been he would have seen
her. He would not inquire at the hotel, nor at any other hotel; but he
knew that in so small a town he must have had a glimpse of her
somewhere. While it was conceivable that her husband might have come to
Berne leaving her elsewhere, this was not the sort of man she would
have married. The type to appeal to her would be something like his
own--of course!

Nevertheless, as he had begun the conversation, he felt that in courtesy
he must go on with it. He did so by pointing with his stick to what he
took to be the highest summit of the range, and saying: "I suppose
that's the Jungfrau."

The stranger moved nearer him. "No, you're too far to the west. That's
the Breithorn. There's the Jungfrau"--he, too, pointed with his
stick--"sentineled by the Eiger and the Moench."

He went on to indicate the Wetterhorn, the Schreckhorn, the Blumlisalp,
the Finsteraarhorn, and the Ebnefluh. They were like a row of shining
spiritual presences manifesting themselves to an unbelieving world.

For the moment they served their turn in helping Chip Walker to subjects
of conversation with his fellow-countryman, in whom he had lost some
interest because he was a fellow-countryman.

"You know a lot about Switzerland, don't you?" he observed, as the
stranger, still pointing with his stick and naming names--the
Silberhorn, the Gletschhorn, the Schneehorn, the Niesen, the
Bettfluh--that impressed the imagination with the force of the great
white peaks themselves, resolved the panorama into its minor elements.

The stick came down and the explanation ceased. "I've lived a good deal
abroad," was the response, given quietly. "You, too, haven't you?"

With the question they turned for the first time and looked each other
in the eyes. While Chip explained that he had spent his early years in
France or Italy or England, according to the interests of h