His trainer, Flipper's on the field, drove from Esslemont at nine, confident as trumps.' 'Deuce of a good-looking girl,' Potts could now afford to say; and he sang out: 'Feel fit, lucky dog ?' 'Concert pitch!' was the declaration of Kit Ives.
'How about Lord Brailstone's man ?' 'Female partner in a quadrille, sir.' 'Ah!' Potts doated on his limbs with a butcher's eye for prize joints.
'Cock-sure has crowed low by sunset,' Mallard observed.
Fleetwood offered him to take his bets.
'You're heavy on it with Brailstone ?' said Mallard.
'Three thousand.' 'I'd back you for your luck blindfold.' A ruffle of sourness shot over the features of the earl, and was noticed by both eager betters, who exchanged a glance.
Potts inspected his watch, and said half aloud: 'Liver, ten to one! That never meant bad luck--except bad to act on.

We slept here last night, you know.

It 's a mile and a quarter from the Royal Sovereign to the field of glory.

Pretty well time to start.

Brailstone has a drive of a couple of miles.