” He handed her the phone reluctantly, barely masking his mild disgust. I’m okay. 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. But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. ” “You are really going on the stage, then?” he said slowly. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. "I'm glad to hear it, that's all," he added, taking out his snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies.
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