She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. The sky periodically pummeled her with hail pellets as she would pass through the deserted intersections. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. 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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