“MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. . 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. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax.
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