BORRING. Phew! Won't Dancy be mad! He gave that filly away to save her keep. He was rather pleased to find somebody who'd take her. Bentman must have won a p-pot. She was at thirty-threes a fortnight ago.
ST ERTH. All the money goes to fellows who don't know a horse from a haystack.
CANYNGE. [Profoundly] And care less. Yes! We want men racing to whom a horse means something.
BORRING. I thought the horse m-meant the same to everyone, General— chance to get the b-better of one's neighbour.
CANYNGE. [With feeling] The horse is a noble animal, sir, as you'd know if you'd owed your life to them as often as I have.
BORRING. They always try to take mine, General. I shall never belong to the noble f-fellowship of the horse.
ST ERTH. [Drily] Evidently. Deal!
As BORRING begins to deal the door is opened and MAJOR COLFORD appears—a lean and moustached cavalryman.
BORRING. Hallo, C-Colford.
COLFORD. General!