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. “We shall try again later. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne.
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