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“I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. ” Ennison nodded. Hilary could not have suggested such a thing. 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. And so she came upon the word Love. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. He turned me so that he could have a companion in his loneliness. "What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up.
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