As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. Her husband finally relented. ” “I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she continued. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. Then pain entered their depths. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. It was a dead calm. 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. This suggestion being approved, was instantly acted upon, and the thief-taker, accompanied by a body of the grenadiers, rode forward.
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