Alors, how did you get in?’ ‘Oh, we broke in,’ Gerald told her cheerfully. 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. Not up here, I think. When I went I was refused admittance. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. That’s the fact of the matter.
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