And such skirts as Ann Veronica had had when she entered the valley of Saas were safely packed away in the hotel, and she wore a leather belt and loose knickerbockers and puttees—a costume that suited the fine, long lines of her limbs far better than any feminine walking-dress could do. Her back stiffened. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. Ann Veronica, after a last survey of the dinner appointments, followed him, rustling, came to his side by the high brass fender, and touched two or three ornaments on the mantel above the cheerful fireplace.
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