Mardon, you don’t understand. My position in St. Marvells——
Sir Tristram.
Oh, I see, Jedd. I beg your pardon. You mean that the colors you ride in don’t show up well on the hill yonder or in the stable of the “Swan” Inn.
The Dean.
You must remember——
Sir Tristram.
I remember that in your young days you made the heaviest book on the Derby of any of our fellows.
The Dean.
I always lost, Mardon; indeed, I always lost!
Sir Tristram.