She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. " This she did carefully, but inwardly commenting that he was still in the realm of strange fancies. “She told you that?” “Yes. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water.
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