“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. 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. " "None whatever," rejoined Wild. She passed inside and upstairs without a word. . "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact.
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