Grey Ruby was lying third now and full of running. A bay on the rails was leading and going uncommonly well.
“Nothing can help me,” said Patricia listlessly. She shivered. “It’s like a fearful dream. The impossible’s got to be done, lest a worse thing befall.”
Grey Ruby was second now.
A chestnut was leading, and the bay was falling back.
The chestnut was leading by a neck and holding his own.
“Buck up, Pat,” said Simon shakily. “We’re both—both in this. I mean—one second. . . .”
A confusion of shouting arose.
The whips were out now, and it was either’s race.
The chestnut, if anything, was slightly ahead.
The shouting swelled into a roar.