CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. 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. He was not due from the City until about six, and so she went and played Badminton with the Widgett girls until dinner-time.
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