'Yes, you look a bit bashed.'
'Yes. Feel it too. But what's the row with you?'
'Just this. I had a couple of quid on Allen, and the rotter goes and gets licked.'
'Good Lord. Whom did you bet with?'
'With Allen himself.'
'Mean to say Allen was crock enough to bet against himself? He must have known he was miles better than anyone else in. He's got three medals there already.'
'No, you see his bet with me was only a hedge. He'd got five to four or something in quids on with a chap in his House at Rugby on himself. He wanted a hedge because he wasn't sure about his ankle being all right. You know he hurt it. So I gave him four to one in half-sovereigns. I thought he was a cert, with apologies to you.'
'Don't mention it. So he was a cert. It was only the merest fluke I managed to out him when I did. If he'd hung on to the end, he'd have won easy. He'd been scoring points all through.'
'I know. So The Sportsman says. Just like my luck.'
'I can't see what you want to bet at all for. You're bound to come a mucker sooner or later. Can't you raise the two quid?'