Ann declared in favour of the walk.

"Let's go straight up to the Roche d'Or. I always feel as if I'd reached
the top of the world there. It's certainly as near the top as I shall ever
get!" she added laughing. "I don't feel drawn towards mountaineering, so I
shall probably never ascend beyond the limits of the rack-and-pinion."

The Roche d'Or was a steep upward slope, culminating in a rocky promontory
from which was visible the vast expanse of the Bernese Oberland. A
railed-in platform capped the promontory, for it was a recognised
viewpoint. Opposite, across a shallow valley, the Dents de Loup cut the
sky-line--two menacing, fang-shaped peaks like the teeth of a wolf, and
beyond them a seemingly endless range of mountains stretched away to
the far horizon, pinnacle after pinnacle towering upwards with sombre,
sharp-edged shadows veiling the depths between. Along immense ridged scarps
lay the plains of everlasting snow, infinitely bleak and desolate till a
burst of sunlight suddenly transformed them, clothing the great flanks of
the mountains in cloth of silver.

Ann stood still, absorbing the sheer beauty of it all.

"It's heavenly, isn't it?" she said at last, a little sigh of ecstasy
escaping her.

Tony looked, not at the hills, but at the young, eager face just level with
his shoulder.

"It's probably as near heaven as I shall ever get," he answered. "Anyway,
just for the moment, I don't feel I've anything particular to complain of."