Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. Behind every one of these myriad fronts she passed there must be a career or careers. 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. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. Anyhow, now you’ve begun it, there’s nothing to keep us in all this from being the best friends in the world. I shall ride to St. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know. He wanted to put on his overcoat and come after you and look for you—in London. She had behaved in every way perfectly.
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