“I hope so. Do you mean to hazard your money on my greys?”
“Oh, I must certainly do so! But I have never the least luck, I must tell you, and shall very likely bring you bad fortune.”
“I am not afraid of that. Your luck was out last night, but I hope you may come about again.”
“That is very pretty of you, Mr Ravenscar, but I fear it was my skill rather than my luck which was at fault,” she owned.
“Perhaps.” He looped his rein dexterously as the greys overtook a gig, and let it run free again as they shot past. “It is to be hoped that your ill-luck is not consistent. It would surely be disastrous to the success of your delightful establishment if this were so.”
“It would indeed,” she agreed somewhat ruefully. “The world is too apt to imagine, however, that a gaming-house must be a source of enormous wealth to its proprietors.”
“I collect that this is not so, Miss Grantham?”
“By no means.”
He turned to look down at her, saying with the abruptness which she found disconcerting: “Are you in debt, Miss Grantham?”
She was quite taken aback, and did not answer for a moment. She said then, in a stiffened voice: “What prompts you to ask me such a question, sir?”