And once more a thought crossed his mind as to the possibility of stopping Sir Hilton’s jockeyship by setting his wife upon his track. But he dismissed it directly, to respond to his visitor’s command.
“I suppose you do, sir,” she said haughtily. “Send the woman here.”
“Woman, eh? Why, she’s a mere gal, my lady.”
“Don’t speak to me like that, man,” cried Lady Lisle. “Where is your daughter?”
“On the grand stand, I s’pose, along o’ him.”
“This is monstrous!” cried Lady Lisle, passionately. “Oh, man, can you stand there with that base effrontery and speak to me like this?”
“Can I, my lady? Yes. Why not? I’m not your paid servant, and I dessay if we totted up together and compared notes, I, Sam Simpkins, trainer, could show as good a hincome as your ladyship. At least, I could yesterday,” he muttered.
“Yes, yes, no doubt; but have you no sense of the moral wrong? Are you shameless, or ignorant of your responsibility to your child?”
“Well, you’re a-pitching it pretty strong, my lady; but I won’t kick, for I dessay you do find it rather a bitter pill to swallow.”
“Man, you are shameless!” cried Lady Lisle, and the trainer chuckled.