And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. 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.
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