” “You know, Mr. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. 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. “I am going to break a covenant,” he cried. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest.
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