” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. 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. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. " "'The thief cometh in the night, and the troop of robbers spoileth without,'" said Wood, who had a text for every emergency. " The Wastrel laughed. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone.
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