Anna lied to you, I lied to you. They were a young man and an old one, and both appeared deeply affected. 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 had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years. ” “No, it’s just a surprise.
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