He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. "Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole. Now I do. 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 great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below.
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