Lord Mablethorpe’s eyes sparkled. “A bet! Now what do you say, Filey?”
“Why, this is paltry!” said Sir James. “For five hundred pounds, Ravenscar? You don’t take me seriously, I fear!”
“Oh, we multiply the stake, of course!” said Ravenscar carelessly.
“Now I am with you!” said Sir James, putting his snuffbox back into his pocket. “Multiply it by what?”
“Ten,” said Ravenscar.
Miss Grantham sat very still in her chair, glancing from one man to the other. Lord Mablethorpe gave a whistle. “That’s five thousand!” he said. “I wouldn’t accept it! We all know your greys. Flying too high, Filey!”
“You’d accept it if I offered you odds,” said Ravenscar.
The man in the puce coat gave a laugh. “Gad’s life, there’s some pretty plunging in the wind! Do you take him, Filey?”
“With the greatest readiness in life!” said Sir James. He looked down at Ravenscar, still lying in his chair with one hand thrust deep into his pocket. “You’re very sure of your greys and your skill! .But I fancy I have you this time! Did you say you would offer me odds?”
“I did,” replied Mr Ravenscar imperturbably.