"You may," said Myra.
II.—THE OPENING RUN
With a great effort Simpson strapped his foot securely into a ski and turned doubtfully to Thomas.
"Thomas," he said, "how do you know which foot is which?"
"It depends whose," said Thomas. He was busy tying a large rucksack of lunch on to himself, and was in no mood for Samuel's ball-room chatter.
"You've got one ski on one foot," I said. "Then the other ski goes on the foot you've got over. I should have thought you would have seen that."
"But I may have put the first one on wrong."
"You ought to know, after all these years, that you are certain to have done so," I said severely. Having had my own hired skis fixed on by the concierge I felt rather superior. Simpson, having bought his in London, was regarded darkly by that gentleman, and left to his own devices.
"Are we all ready?" asked Myra, who had kept us waiting for twenty minutes. "Archie, what about Dahlia?"