The more that is expected of him, the closer must be the expression of his friends, or a grave fiasco may have to be deplored.
It was for these reasons that George's face wore more than its habitual composure, and the faces of his trainer and his jockey were alert, determined, and expressionless.

Blacksmith, a little man, had in his hand a short notched cane, with which, contrary to expectation, he did not switch his legs.

His eyelids drooped over his shrewd eyes, his upper lip advanced over the lower, and he wore no hair on his face.

The Jockey Swells' pinched-up countenance, with jutting eyebrows and practically no cheeks, had under George's racing-cap of "peacock blue" a subfusc hue like that of old furniture.
The Ambler had been bought out of the stud of Colonel Dorking, a man opposed on high grounds to the racing of two-year-olds, and at the age of three had never run.

Showing more than a suspicion of form in one or two home trials, he ran a bye in the Fane Stakes, when obviously not up to the mark, and was then withdrawn from the public gaze.