did　not。　I　was　awake　for　quite　a　long　time　thinking　about　things　and　watching　Catherine　sleeping；　the　moonlight　on　her　face。　Then　I　went　to　sleep；　too。

39

By　the　middle　of　January　I　had　a　beard　and　the　winter　had　settled　into　bright　cold　days　and　hard　cold　nights。　We　could　walk　on　the　roads　again。　The　snow　was　packed　hard　and　smooth　by　the　hay…sleds　and　wood…sledges　and　the　logs　that　were　hauled　down　the　mountain。　The　snow　lay　over　all　the　country；　down　almost　to　Montreux。　The　mountains　on　the　other　side　of　the　lake　were　all　white　and　the　plain　of　the　Rhone　Valley　was　covered。　We　took　long　walks　on　the　other　side　of　the　mountain　to　the　Bains　de　l'Alliaz。　Catherine　wore　hobnailed　boots　and　a　cape　and　carried　a　stick　with　a　sharp　steel　point。　She　did　not　look　big　with　the　cape　and　we　would　not　walk　too　fast　but　stopped　and　sat　on　logs　by　the　roadside　to　rest　when　she　was　tired。

There　was　an　inn　in　the　trees　at　the　Bains　de　l'Alliaz　where　the　woodcutters　stopped　to　drink；　and　we　sat　inside　warmed　by　the　stove　and　drank　hot　red　wine　with　spices　and　lemon　in　it。　They　called　it　gluhwein　and　it　was　a　good　thing　to　warm　you　and　to　celebrate　with。　The　inn　was　dark　and　smoky　inside　and　afterward　when　you　went　out　the　cold　air　came　sharply　into　your　lungs　and　numbed　the　edge　of　your　nose　as　you　inhaled。　We　looked　back　at　the　inn　with　light　ing　from　the　windows　and　the　woodcutters'　horses　stamping　and　jerking　their　heads　outside　to　keep　warm。　There　was　frost　on　the　hairs　of　their　muzzles　and　their　breathing　made　plumes　of　frost　in　the　air。　Going　up　the　road　toward　home　the　road　was　smooth　and　slippery　for　a　while　and　the　ice　orange　from　the　horses　until　the　wood…hauling　track　turned　off。　Then　the　road　was　clean…packed　snow　and　led　through　the　woods；　and　twice　i