Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white. ‘And just who is Leonardo?’ ‘How in God’s name should I know?’ demanded Roding irascibly. “For me,” Manning went on, “this isn’t final. Nobody could possibly find him now. 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.
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