A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. "But, pardon my intrusion. ” “I suppose,” Ennison said, “the likeness between the sisters must be rather exceptional?” “I never saw the goody-goody one close to, so I can’t say,” Drummond answered. She walked back to the car. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both.
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