He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. 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. We smirk, and we’re a bit—furtive. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. She came into the room. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. ’ Mademoiselle, who had been nodding in agreement at Roding during the first part of this speech, abruptly turned to face Gerald again. There was a man, a boy, and a woman.
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