He threw up his head and glanced around with scornful challenge in his eye.
"Hey!" cried a man's voice in alarm.
He looked up.
The chest of a horse was within a hand's breadth of his shoulder. The horse's head was flung aloft. The horse snorting and quivering, and bearing back upon his haunches.
Leigh sprang aside and looked around. He was in the middle of Piccadilly at Hyde Park Corner. He had almost been ridden over by a group of equestrians.
The gentleman whose horse had nearly touched him, took off his hat and apologised.
"You stopped suddenly right under the horse's head," said the gentleman. "I am extremely sorry."
Leigh raised his stick to strike the head of the horse.
The rider pulled his horse sharply away and muttered something under his breath.
"Oh, Sir Julius," cried a voice in terror, "it's Mr. Leigh!"