“Ah—yes—very happy. In the Guards, I think. Know Douglas, don't you?”
“Yes, very slightly.”
“When did you come—to-day?”
“No; last night.”
“Must have got a buffeting; blew very fresh. You don't happen to know the odds on the Oaks?”
“Hecate, they say, is falling. I rather heard a good account of the mare.”
“Indeed,” said he, while his cold, inanimate features brightened up with a momentary flush of excitement. “Take you five to two, or give you the odds, you don't name the winner on the double event.”
A look from O'Grady decided me at once on declining the proffered wager; and his Lordship once more returned to the mirror and his self-admiration.
“I say, O'Grady, do come here for a minute. What the deuce can that be?”