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Updated: May 20, 2025
Whether he was a fugitive, or whether he was let out from prison, he would in either case, in all reasonable probability, turn his face homeward. If he was escaping, he would make immediately for the Savoy frontier, within which Saas then lay. He would cross the Baranca above Fobello, coming down on to Ponte Grande in the Val Anzasca.
I look down, and under my very eyes the solid ground ends, my horrified vision drops hundreds of feet to the bottom of a mighty gash in Cordilleras' flank, and for one sick instant I shut my eyes. "How like you a baranca?" Is it the wind jeering after me as I drop down, down, down?
Steele, when we are once more in our rooms, which conveniently adjoin. "No, he can be conspicuously disagreeable when he likes." I have in mind the "baranca" episode. "What do you suppose makes him so absent-minded and constrained, Blanche?" "Simple perversity, very likely." I stand in the communicating doorway, brushing a jacket. I am conscious that Mrs.
The wretch speaks as calmly as if we sat in a Pullman car. Through all my fright and indignation I wonder what on earth's a "baranca" and forget to scream. "Now, Señorita, if I hold you not zo far out as you like, tell me."
"He's afraid to leave us," I think indignantly; "he doesn't want me to tell Mrs. Steele." "Did you notice that great cleft in the mountain we went over?" asks the latter, fanning me gently. "Yes, dthat ees call 'baranca. Señorita seem not to like it." "Neither would Mrs. Steele if she had " "She nefer vould! Madame Steele ees a too vise voman. Vhat you dthink, Madame?
I have no friend here but you; you must take me back to Mrs. Steele. Come!" "How vell you know men! But not me, Blanca not a Peruvian. I know it ees better for you, as vell as for myself, dthat you marry me. You haf nefer been so gentle and so gude as since I hold you near dthat baranca. But you did not like it!
Whether he was a fugitive, or whether he was let out from prison, he would in either case, in all reasonable probability, turn his face homeward. If he was escaping, he would make immediately for the Savoy frontier, within which Saas then lay. He would cross the Baranca above Fobello, coming down on to Ponte Grande in the Val Anzasca.
"I tell you I'll come back, let me go!" and I glance out shudderingly. We have passed over the obstruction, whatever it was, and are running along the side of a steep descent. "I am sorry you dthink my hands zo weak, for if dthey fail ve bodth go down." "Oh, please, please!" I gasp. "Now ve come to a baranca. I am curious to zee vill you like a 'baranca."
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