Her anger died and she eyed him. ’ ‘I swear to you, it is the exact truth,’ he protested. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains. 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. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. She tore open the envelope and read it.
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