” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. That would come later. When the hero finally did appear, Ruth became filled with gentle self-mockery. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen.
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