Gerald went through all the papers in front of Gosse and that woman of his, one by one. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing.
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