I have discovered something of her background. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. 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. It’s a sort of guarantee of confidence.
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