The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. I did not know what God had in mind then. “Here,” he said, “is this Blau See, and here we rest until to-morrow. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. Gerald’s chest tightened. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral.
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