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. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. "I assure you, Sir, when I left him an hour ago, it was locked. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman.
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