Then he
came out with his camera.
"We will go to that inn again," he said cheerily. "I want to take the
photographs to those peasants."
In half an hours time they were on their way. It was the same drive as
before: and since then, Bernardine had seen more of the country, and was
more accustomed to the wonderful white scenery: but still the "white
presences" awed her, and still the deep silence held her. It was the
same scene, and yet not the same either, for the season was now far
advanced, and the melting of the snows had begun. In the far distance
the whiteness seemed as before; but on the slopes near at hand, the
green was beginning to assert itself, and some of the great trees had
cast off their heavy burdens, and appeared more gloomy in their freedom
than in the days of their snow-bondage. The roads were no longer quite
so even as before; the sledge glided along when it could, and bumped
along when it must. Still, there was sufficient snow left to make the
drive possible, and even pleasant.
The two companions were quiet. Once only the Disagreeable Man made a
remark, and then he said:
"I am afraid my negatives will be spoilt!"
"You said that before," Bernardine remarked.
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