"Souls," she answered, drily. ‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. “Will you be moral and your species, or immoral and yourself? We’ve decided to be immoral. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. I am absolutely certain that up to the present we have escaped all notice, and I do not believe that any casual observer would take us for English people. 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. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling.
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