He could lose himself for hours at a time. ‘Me, I have a name. 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. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. ‘Espéce de diable,’ she screamed. ’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. He’ll appoint a meeting place with you and be ready at any time to bring a message to me. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. It 163 invariably leads to trouble.
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