Clement. That'll depend on the Ladies' Plate; if I win it ...
Margaret. Dead certainty!
Clement. And anyhow, in April the Riviera really isn't the thing any more.
Margaret. Oh, that's it, is it?
Clement. Of course that's it, child. You've retained from your old life certain conceptions of what's the thing which are—you'll forgive me for saying it—just a little like those of the comic papers.
Margaret. Really, Clement ...
Clement. Oh well, we'll see. (Goes on reading.) Badegast fifteen to one ...
Margaret. Badegast? He won't be in it.
Clement. How do you know that?
Margaret. Szigrati himself told me.