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. “Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. She was as fair as the lily of the lotus. Her own pack was so light that she left it in the locker.
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