Philip. Oh, but she's just the mare I had set my mind on.
John. [With a touch of humour.] You want her for yourself?
Philip. [A little flustered.] I—eh—I sometimes ride.
John. [Now sure of himself.] She's rather lively for you, Judge. Mrs. Karslake used to ride her.
Philip. You don't care to sell her to me?
John. She's a dangerous mare, Judge, and she's as delicate and changeable as a girl. I'd hate to leave her in your charge!
Cynthia. [Eagerly but in a low voice.] Leave her in mine, Mr. Karslake!
John. [After a slight pause.] Mrs. Karslake knows all about a horse, but— [Turning to Cynthia.] Cynthia K's got rather tricky of late.
Cynthia. [Haughtily.] You mean to say you think she'd chuck me?
John. [With polite solicitude and still humourous. To Philip.] I'd hate to have a mare of mine deprive you of a wife, Judge. [Rises. Cynthia shows anger.] She goes to Saratoga next week, C. W.