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. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. Sheppard, hastily; "is that the name?" "Ay, ay, now I look again it is Trenchard. But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand.
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