She will not confide in me. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. Her heartbeat quickened. 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. “We are clerks in the same bank.
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