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. I won’t even ask. ‘You will please to tell this—this idiot to release me. What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. She wanted to be on with the show.
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