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. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. "Don't alarm yourself. ” Ann Veronica did. “You have the ideas.
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