She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. She was an Egyptian, from the magical times. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. But the girl stood outside the circle of Ah Cum's knowledge—rather profound—of human impulses. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. 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. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters.
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