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. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. Wood brought up. I have two days in which to earn nearly thirty shillings—that is with no dinners, and get a situation. Don't feel fussed upon my account.
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