"Can't!" repeated his mother. Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. ‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. “As it is doubtful whether the man will live, we should be glad if you would identify him. She could tell that he was furious in that instant.
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