I’ve had it, Sheila. ” “I ought to have—all the same. 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. All human food tasted equally dead and loathsome to her, whether it was prime steak or cheap hamburger. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue.
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