Nothing else so quickly establishes the condition of comradeship as the sharing of a laughable incident. 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. “It was such a surprise to see you. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England. But, as you perceive, I brought it away with me. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. I have gone without dinner for three nights, and—come in. My business is with Lady Trafford.
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