She looked doubtful. They went out of the station between banks of
snow.
'Ah,' said Gerald, sniffing the air in elation, 'this is perfect.
There's our sledge. We'll walk a bit--we'll run up the road.'
Gudrun, always doubtful, dropped her heavy coat on the sledge, as he
did his, and they set off. Suddenly she threw up her head and set off
scudding along the road of snow, pulling her cap down over her ears.
Her blue, bright dress fluttered in the wind, her thick scarlet
stockings were brilliant above the whiteness. Gerald watched her: she
seemed to be rushing towards her fate, and leaving him behind. He let
her get some distance, then, loosening his limbs, he went after her.
Everywhere was deep and silent snow. Great snow-eaves weighed down the
broad-roofed Tyrolese houses, that were sunk to the window-sashes in
snow. Peasant-women, full-skirted, wearing each a cross-over shawl, and
thick snow-boots, turned in the way to look at the soft, determined
girl running with such heavy fleetness from the man, who was overtaking
her, but not gaining any power over her.
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