She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. ’ ‘But, no,’ cried Melusine anxiously. 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. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle.
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