"Not me. I wish it was Goby; old Goby is a ripping good sort. He knows what's what, does old Goby."
Goby tipped him freely and frequently, and Bob sold him a spavined pony, aged fifteen years.
"He's a bit of a fool, of course," said Bob, thoughtfully. "Do you know, granny, he isn't the judge of horses you'd think he is?"
"Does Penelope ever confide in you, Bob?" asked Titania.
There was a touch of anxiety in her voice that the boy felt at once. He put his head on one side and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't answer the question.
"I say, granny, don't you think I can have a bigger allowance now? I find mine much too little. If I had ten shillings a week more, I could get on for a bit."
"You shall have it," said Titania. "Does she ever confide in you, Bob?"
"Some," said Bob, carelessly.
"Which do you think she likes best?" asked Titania.
"I don't know," said Bob, "but I dare say I could find out. I say, should you be very angry if it was Gordon?"