“The most difficult thing in the world—in horses. Just about impossible in temperament and movement, let alone looks. Most men are lucky if they get, like Henderson, a running mate.”
“I see,” said Jack, who knew something about the Henderson household, “your idea of a pair is that they should go single.”
Mavick laughed, and said something about the ideas of women changing so much lately that nobody could tell what the relation of marriage would become, and Jack, who began to feel that he was disloyal, changed the subject. To do him justice, he would have been ashamed for Edith to hear this sort of flippant and shallow talk, which wouldn't have been at all out of place with Carmen or Miss Tavish.
“I wanted to ask you, Mavick, as a friend, do you think Henderson is square?”
“How square?”
“Well, safe?”
“Nobody is safe. Henderson is as safe as anybody. You can rely on what he says. But there's a good deal he doesn't say. Anything wrong?”
“Not that I know. I've been pretty lucky. But the fact is, I've gone in rather deep.”
“Well, it's a game. Henderson plays it, as everybody does, for himself. I like Henderson. He plays to win, and generally does. But, you know, if one man wins, somebody else has got to lose in this kind of industry.”
“But Henderson looks out for his friends?”