When they had left the bar the conversation turned on racing as an occupation for women.
"Fancy my wife making a book on the course. I bet she'd overlay it and then turn round and back the favourite at a shorter price than she'd been laying."
"I don't know that we should be any foolisher than you," said Esther; "don't you never go and overlay your book? What about Syntax and the 'orse you told me about last week?"
William had been heavily hit last week through overlaying his book against a horse he didn't believe in, and the whole bar joined in the laugh against him.
"I don't say nothing about bookmaking," said Journeyman; "but there's a great many women nowadays who is mighty sharp at spotting a 'orse that the handicapper had let in pretty easy."
"This one," said Ketley, jerking his thumb in the direction that Stack and
Sarah had gone, "seems to 'ave got hold of something."
"We must ask Stack when he comes back," and Journeyman winked at William.
"Women do get that excited over trifles," old John remarked, sarcastically. "She ain't got above 'alf-a-crown on the 'orse, if that. She don't care about the 'orse or the race—no woman ever did; it's all about some sweetheart that's been piling it on."
"I wonder if you're right," said Esther, reflectively. "I never knew her before to take such an interest in a horse-race."
On the day of the race Sarah came into the private bar about three o'clock. The news was not yet in.