“We’ll get a bobsled and come down the road. That’s no worse for you than riding in a car.”
“Won’t it be rough?”
“We can see.”
“I hope it won’t be too rough.”
“After a while we’ll take a walk in the snow.”
“Before lunch,” Catherine said, “so we’ll have a good appetite.”
“I’m always hungry.”
“So am I.”
We went out in the snow but it was drifted so that we could not wall far. I went ahead and made a trail down to the station but when we reached there we had gone far enough. The snow was blowing so we could hardly see and we went into the little inn by the station and swept each other off with a broom and sat on a bench and had vermouths.
“It is a big storm,” the barmaid said.
“Yes.”
“The snow is very late this year.”
“Yes.”
“Could I eat a chocolate bar?” Catherine asked. “Or is it too close to lunch? I’m always hungry.”
“Go on and eat one,” I said.
“I’ll take one with filberts,”’ Catherine said.
“They are very good,” the girl said, “I like them the best.”
“I’ll have another vermouth,” I said.
When we came out to start back up the road our track was filled in by the snow. There were only faint indentations where the holes had been. The snow blew in our faces so we could hardly see. We brushed off and went in to have lunch. Mr. Guttingen served the lunch.
