"What's the matter?" Ruby stepped forward and took Rupert's hand.
"I was wondering, if Paulus didn't win?" he stammered. "But, of course it will. Come along, or we shall miss the train!"
Rupert slung his race-glasses over his shoulder, put on his hat, and together they ran downstairs. At the front door the landlady of the lodgings met him. She drew Rupert aside and reminded him that his bill was three weeks overdue.
"You said you would let me have something to-day, sir. I'm sorry to trouble you, but——"
"Of course, I forgot. I'll pay you to-night without fail," he cried cheerfully.
Then, slamming the front door behind him, he slipped his arm through Ruby's. Hailing a passing taxi-cab they drove to Waterloo Station.
* * * * *
Epsom Downs looked like a vast ant-hill. The very air seemed to shake and quiver with the cries of the multitude. The great race of the day was due to start. Paulus was a hot favourite. It was difficult to get bookmakers to lay two to one against it.
"By gad, it can't lose," Rupert kept on saying. "I shall win enough, Ruby, to pay my debts, with a little to spare."
Ruby slipped her hand into his. She looked into his face a trifle uneasily: "You mean if it were to win? Would it be very serious for you if Paulus were to lose?"