She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. As a matter of fact I have been waiting for you. I am quite clear about this. ” She looked at her toes. “Why don’t they wait?” he added. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious. The Higher Life and the Lower. 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.
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