‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. . Dinner was quite uneventful. 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. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. Winifred instantly picked it up. He brought another small loaf, and a can with which he replenished the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he would get nothing further till morning.
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