’ ‘Very good, ma’am. It is not at all comme il faut. 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. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. Kneebone he's not here. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking.
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