‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. Please tell me what your terms are. He was not there. She had never been so happy to vomit. 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. Wood uttered something like an imprecation.
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