After a brief conversation, which Sheppard sustained with his accustomed liveliness, the old man turned to Bess and addressed a few words of common-place gallantry to her. I am always reinventing myself with new styles. "But she is saying something to me! What is it?" The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. 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.
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