Clodagh laughed a little tremulously.
"Of course not," she said. "How can you be so silly? I hadn't her properly in hand, that was all."
As she finished young Asshlin cantered back, halting on the further side of the ditch. His face was also flushed and his eyes looked dark.
"Look here," he said, eyeing Milbanke, "what did you mean by balking her like that? What were you doing with your beastly handkerchief? 'Twas no race, Clo!"
But Clodagh looked up.
"Oh yes, it was," she said. "It was all my own fault; I hadn't Polly in hand. I should have pulled her together and sent her over with a touch of the whip. Apologise, Larry! 'Twas a fair race."
But Larry still hesitated, his glance straying doubtfully from one face to the other.
"Honour bright, Clo?" he asked at last.
Clodagh nodded.
"Then I'm sorry, sir," he said frankly, "for saying what I said."