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. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. You're on the way to big things. "But I like Bobby Burns best. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. He glanced at his watch.
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