There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. To his relief, she nodded. I heard everywhere of his enormous riches and his generosity. “I had found her at last, and she shot me. "Ay. She came along with the fluttering assurance of some tall ship. 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.
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