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. But the young man with the orange tie remained in his place, disputing whether the body had not something or other which he called its legitimate claims. I am not come here to play the part of your father-confessor. You can have no shecrets from me. ‘Just what I was going to tell you, miss. Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected.
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