William slipped into a wet suit and got into the outdoor pool, snorkelling with a group of eight-year-olds.
The Hawk answered their questions about his wet suit with a brief explanation of the fight, then got down to business.
Inside of five minutes the next landing place was made, and Bob Bangs went ashore, taking his wet suit with him.
Finally he hung the wet suit in the closet, with his dry pajamas spread carefully over them.
Her wet suit of light blue and green silk clung closely to her, showing the lines of her justly proportioned body.
Her scarlet bathing cap flamed against the ash blue sky and her wet suit clung to her slender form like a sheath of black lacquer.
To change from one wet suit to another only a little less so is conducive neither to comfort nor to a peaceful old age.