"Ah!"
"Oh, take the pony and be hanged to you. I don't want to lend him, I tell you that straight; but, since like a fool I offered the brute, you can have him. Break his neck if you like, your own too."
"Thank you very much, Peter, and will you or shall I have him sent down?"
"I will."
"Right, good-bye, you're coming yourself, I suppose?"
"Yes, with the ambulance for you."
"Good. I'll be off to dress," and Graeme, leaving Peter frowning at his knots, returned to his own bungalow, where he found Lucy awaiting him in the verandah.
"Where on earth have you been, Hector," she said, "and what's the matter?" staring at him.
"Nothing. I've been given a mount for the Regimental Cup, Lucy, just what you wanted, aren't you pleased?"
Lucy, however, did not look pleased. She stood, with her eyes still fixed on her husband's face.