In his fury at her for being thus stupid he gave the off thoroughbred a sharp cut with the whip. The horse, unused to such loutish disrespect to his royal blood, leaped forward, started to run. For five minutes Richmond had to fix his undivided attention upon the horses; they gave him a bad scare before consenting to submit.
The girl, unconscious of what was going on, sat in the blinding storm of her own unhappiness.
“You and Peter are engaged?” was her father’s resuming remark.
“In a fashion.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not much of anything,” replied his daughter indifferently.
Richmond’s strong, sallow teeth looked as if they were crowded because they were pushing eagerly to the fore in competition to be first in sinking into the prey. Said he: “I want the date of the wedding fixed at once.”
Silence.
“Did you hear?”
“Yes.”