In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. 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. John, he was between me and the door.
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