return alone. The spoke no word to each other on their way to the
Hanging Outlook. The path was practically level, skirting the
mountains, for the Hanging Outlook was not much higher above the sea
than the hotel.

John Bodman had formed no fixed plan for his procedure when the place
was reached. He resolved to be guided by circumstances. Now and then a
strange fear arose in his mind that she might cling to him and possibly
drag him over the precipice with her. He found himself wondering
whether she had any premonition of her fate, and one of his reasons for
not speaking was the fear that a tremor in his voice might possibly
arouse her suspicions. He resolved that his action should be sharp and
sudden, that she might have no chance either to help herself or to drag
him with her. Of her screams in that desolate region he had no fear. No
one could reach the spot except from the hotel, and no one that morning
had left the house, even for an expedition to the glacier--one of the
easiest and most popular trips from the place.

Curiously enough, when they came within sight of the Hanging Outlook,
Mrs. Bodman stopped and shuddered. Bodman looked at her through the
narrow slits of his veiled eyes, and wondered again if she had any
suspicion. No one can tell, when two people walk closely together, what
unconscious communication one mind may have with another.

"What is the matter?" he asked gruffly. "Are you tired?"

"John," she cried, with a gasp in her voice, calling him by his
Christian name for the first time in years, "don't you think that if
you had been kinder to me at first, things might have been different?"