He stumbled over the words and then added, "No, by Jove, that won't do!"
"Oh, don't let's tell each other things we ought!" Claire entreated. "It's not the kind of morning for that. I meant to talk about lots of really important subjects, but I'm not going to now. I may later, of course; but just now I don't feel in the mood for being important."
Winn looked at her very hard, and then he said:
"But still you are rather important, you know."
"Then," she laughed, "I'm important enough to have my own way, aren't I?"
Winn said nothing. He seemed to acquiesce that she was important enough for that.
"Would you like to know," she asked, "what I'd really like for lunch?" Winn said he would awfully, and by the time she had told him they had reached the top, and the funicular appeared, disgorging people in front of a big glass-covered restaurant.
Winn found the best and quietest table with the finest view. From it they could see the valley down to Frauenkirch and up to Clavedel.
It was a splendid lunch, curiously good, with sparkling sweet wine, which Claire loved, and Winn, secretly loathing, serenely shared because of a silly feeling he had that he must take what she did.
After lunch they sat and smoked, leaning over the great clear view. They could hear the distant velvety boom of the village clock beneath them. Winn gripped his hand firmly on the table.