And there, about Saas, are ice and snows again, and sometimes we will loiter among the rocks and trees about Saas or peep into Samuel Butler's chapels, and sometimes we will climb up out of the way of the other people on to the glaciers and snow. And, for one expedition at least, we will go up this desolate valley here to Mattmark, and so on to Monte Moro. There indeed you see Monte Rosa. Almost the best of all.""Is it very beautiful?"
"When I saw it there it was very beautiful. It was wonderful.
It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. That will be a fine day--it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy. . . . That's as far as we go.""Can't we go down into Italy?"
"No," he said; "it won't run to that now. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work.""But Italy--"
"Italy's for a good girl," he said, and laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. "She must look forward to Italy.""I say," she reflected, "you ARE rather the master, you know."The idea struck him as novel. "Of course I'm manager for this expedition," he said, after an interval of self-examination.
She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. "Nice sleeve," she said, and came to his hand and kissed it.
"I say!" he cried. "Look here! Aren't you going a little too far? This--this is degradation--making a fuss with sleeves. You mustn't do things like that.""Why not?"
"Free woman--and equal."
"I do it--of my own free will," said Ann Veronica, kissing his hand again. "It's nothing to what I WILL do.""Oh, well!" he said, a little doubtfully, "it's just a phase,"and bent down and rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, with his heart beating and his nerves a-quiver. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. . . .
Part 6
Most of the things that he had planned they did. But they climbed more than he had intended because Ann Veronica proved rather a good climber, steady-headed and plucky, rather daring, but quite willing to be cautious at his command.
One of the things that most surprised him in her was her capacity for blind obedience. She loved to be told to do things.
He knew the circle of mountains about Saas Fee fairly well: he had been there twice before, and it was fine to get away from the straggling pedestrians into the high, lonely places, and sit and munch sandwiches and talk together and do things together that were just a little difficult and dangerous. And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. They were enormously pleased with one another;they found each other beyond measure better than they had expected, if only because of the want of substance in mere expectation. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper.
"You're--I don't know," said Ann Veronica. "You're splendid.""It isn't that you're splendid or I," said Capes. "But we satisfy one another. Heaven alone knows why. So completely! The oddest fitness! What is it made of? Texture of skin and texture of mind? Complexion and voice. I don't think I've got illusions, nor you. . . . If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. . . . All your faults are just jolly modelling to make you real and solid.""The faults are the best part of it," said Ann Veronica; "why, even our little vicious strains run the same way. Even our coarseness.""Coarse?" said Capes, "We're not coarse.""But if we were?" said Ann Veronica.
"I can talk to you and you to me without a scrap of effort," said Capes; "that's the essence of it. It's made up of things as small as the diameter of hairs and big as life and death. . . .
One always dreamed of this and never believed it. It's the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. Most people, every one I know else, seem to have mated with foreigners and to talk uneasily in unfamiliar tongues, to be afraid of the knowledge the other one has, of the other one's perpetual misjudgment and misunderstandings.
"Why don't they wait?" he added.
Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight.
"One doesn't wait," said Ann Veronica.
She expanded that. "_I_ shouldn't have waited," she said. "Imight have muddled for a time. But it's as you say. I've had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet.""We've both fallen on our feet! We're the rarest of mortals!
The real thing! There's not a compromise nor a sham nor a concession between us. We aren't afraid; we don't bother. We don't consider each other; we needn't. That wrappered life, as you call it--we've burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it!
We're stark!"
"Stark!" echoed Ann Veronica.
Part 7
As they came back from that day's climb--it was up the Mittaghorn--they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes.
