Mrs.
Lascelles had taken possession of one, with which she was methodically probing the path, for there had been no time to draw their Alpine teeth.
She did not comply with my request.

She smiled instead.
"I mind very much," her old voice said.

"Now we have finished fighting, perhaps you will listen to the _Meistersinger_--for it is worth listening to on that band--and try to appreciate Baden while you are here.

There are no more trains for hours." The wooded hills rose over the bandstand, against the bright blue sky.
The shadow of the colonnade lay sharp and black beyond our feet, with people passing, and the band crashing, in the sunlight beyond.

That was Baden.