that had seemed like to last for ever, the vows, the tears, all
now as if they had never been, gone on the four winds, lost in
the abysses of time and space.

And to think of all the thousands and thousands of lovers who had
loved no less wildly and tenderly, made sweet these lanes with
their vows, made green these meadows with their feet; and they,
too, all gone, their bright eyes fallen to dust, their sweet
voices for ever put to silence.

To which I would add, for the benefit of the profane, that I
sought in vain for those broken bottles.



CHAPTER XII


THE TRUTH ABOUT THE GIPSIES

I felt lonely after losing my companion, and I met nobody to take
his place. In fact, for a couple of hours I met nothing worth
mentioning, male or female, with the exception of a gipsy
caravan, which I suppose was both; but it was a poor show. Borrow
would have blushed for it. In fact, it is my humble opinion that
the gipsies have been overdone, just as the Alps have been
over-climbed. I have no great desire to see Switzerland, for I
am sure the Alps must be greasy with being climbed.

Besides, the Alps and the gipsies, in common with waterfalls and