You will do as I say, or—’ ‘Hoy!’ called Trodger from down the hall. Instinctively she imitated this action, chilled and a little frightened at the expression of terror that confronted her. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. 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. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit.
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