The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. " "Never fear," replied Thames, taking up his hat. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould.
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