Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten. 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. He was a little embarrassed. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy.
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