” “I may have to run,” said her father, with an appeal to his watch. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. That’s my opinion, if you ask me. 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. CHAPTER XVII. Rhea writhed and scuttled about like a crab. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. ’ With pretty imperiousness, she gestured to the bed beside her.
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