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. There were electric and ice plants, and a great store in which one could buy anything from jewsharps to gas-engines. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. gutenberg. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.
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