"Of course it's a mistake, Miranda. I am awfully sorry! Chewing Gum ran nowhere to Earthly Paradise in the Newberry Stakes this year, and Earthly Paradise, all out to win, was beaten a month ago by seven lengths at Warwick, by Rollicking Lady. And Rollicking Lady was in this race too. So you see it's impossible. Chewing Gum's a Plater."
Miranda wrung her hands.
"But, Harold, he did win; didn't he, Harper?"
"There's no doubt about it, madam," replied the butler with dignity. "I 'av verified the hinformation from other sources."
He left the two experts blinking. Dennis was the first to recover from the blow.
"What on earth made you back him, Miranda?"
Miranda sailed to the side of Joan Whitworth.
"You are both of you so very unpleasant that I am seriously inclined not to tell you. But I always back horses with the names of things to eat."
The two scientists were dumb. They stared open-mouthed. Somewhere, it seemed, a religion tottered upon its foundations. Sacrilege itself could hardly have gone further than Miranda Brown had gone.
"But—but," Harold Jupp stammered feebly, "you don't eat chewing gum."