She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. So that way is closed. 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. Presently he turned to Courtlaw. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended.