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. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. “What can one say?” she exclaimed.
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