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 Upsala and was now corresponding with the University of Copenhagen. He proved to be a man of cosmopolitan acquaintance who had visited London, New York, San Francisco. He spoke English perfectly; and he nursed profound, personal antipathy to Germany as his family fortunes had suffered enormously through the torpedoing of Norwegian ships; moreover, he himself had been traveling from England to Bergen when his ship was destroyed and he had been exposed to winter weather in an open boat for five days before being picked up. He was only now recuperating from the effects of that exposure, meanwhile carrying on certain economic studies to guide trade relations after the war.

His method of recuperation, Ruth observed, was to eat as heavily and as often as occasions permitted; he was a sleek, sensuous young man, ease-loving and, by his own account, a connoisseur of the arts. He talked informatively about painting, as about politics. Ruth did not like him; but when she encountered him as she was wandering about alone gazing at the quaint houses in the interior of the old town, she could not be too rude to him when he offered himself as a guide.

"You have seen the Kapellbrücke, Miss Gail?"

"Yes; of course," Ruth said.

"And the historical paintings? You understand them?"

"Yes," Ruth asserted again.

"To what do they refer?"

"I don't know," Ruth admitted, and accompanied him, in no wise offended, back to the old bridge over the Reuss; then to the Mühlenbrücke with its Dance of Death; next he took her away to the Glacier Garden.