Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. "My servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears,— and hands, if need be,—but no tongues. 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 entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone.
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