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. Gina, the eleven year old, just couldn’t take it and she ran away. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. He seated himself before it. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. He turned to Mrs. ” “The faults are the best part of it,” said Ann Veronica; “why, even our little vicious strains run the same way.
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