"Do you want me to ride him in the National?" she asked.
"I don't mind," he answered nonchalantly.
"Have you backed him?"
"Not yet."
"Are you going to?"
"I might—if I can get a hundred thousand to a thousand about him."
Her gray eyes searched him. Not a corner of him but her questioning spirit ransacked it.
"How much money have you got left?"
"When all's squared? a few thousand, I believe."
She looked into the fire, one little foot poised on the fender. He was provoking her. She felt it.