ST ERTH. We ought to have stuck to the old game. Wish I'd gone to
Newmarket, Canynge, in spite of the weather.
CANYNGE. [Looking at his watch] Let's hear what's won the
Cambridgeshire. Ring, won't you, WINSOR? [WINSOR rings.]
ST ERTH. By the way, Canynge, young De Levis was blackballed.
CANYNGE. What!
ST ERTH. I looked in on my way down.
CANYNGE sits very still, and WINSOR utters a disturbed sound.
BORRING. But of c-course he was, General. What did you expect?
A FOOTMAN enters.
FOOTMAN. Yes, my lord?
ST ERTH. What won the Cambridgeshire?