“I’m thirsty. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. "Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. With a little more meat on him, he would be handsome. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. 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.
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