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 held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs. Ennison, or any other young man.
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