His face was less bloated, his appearance more tidy than of old. It was clear he had been drinking less.
"What d'you think of him?" she asked.
The tout threw a critical eye over the foal. There was no question that Joses knew a thing or two about a horse.
"Ugly but likely," he said, with the deliberate air of a connoisseur. "What they call in France a beau laid."
The girl demurred to the proposition. Her foal was not bow-legged.
"His legs are all right," she said, somewhat tartly. "He's a bit on the leg; but he's sure to be at that age."
"How's he bred, d'you know?" asked the other thoughtfully.
Boy was on the alert in a moment. That was a stable secret, and not to be disclosed.
"I'm not quite sure," she answered truthfully. "We picked up the dam from a gypsy."
The fat man nodded. He seemed to know all about it. Indeed, it was his business to know all about such things.