She was
terribly susceptible to these evil prognostications, but he only shook
his head.
'I don't know,' he said, 'I don't know.'
Gerald did not come in from his skiing until nightfall, he missed the
coffee and cake that she took at four o'clock. The snow was in perfect
condition, he had travelled a long way, by himself, among the snow
ridges, on his skis, he had climbed high, so high that he could see
over the top of the pass, five miles distant, could see the
Marienhutte, the hostel on the crest of the pass, half buried in snow,
and over into the deep valley beyond, to the dusk of the pine trees.
One could go that way home; but he shuddered with nausea at the thought
of home;--one could travel on skis down there, and come to the old
imperial road, below the pass. But why come to any road? He revolted at
the thought of finding himself in the world again. He must stay up
there in the snow forever. He had been happy by himself, high up there
alone, travelling swiftly on skis, taking far flights, and skimming
past the dark rocks veined with brilliant snow.
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