Clement. How was that? Where?
Margaret. Why, yesterday up at the Freudenau, while you were talking to Milner.
Clement. To my way of thinking, Szigrati isn't the right sort of company for you.
Margaret. Jealous?
Clement. Nonsense! Anyhow, after this I shall introduce you everywhere as my fiancée. (She kisses him.) Well, what did Szigrati tell you?
Margaret. That he wasn't going to enter Badegast for the Ladies' Plate.
Clement. Oh, you mustn't believe everything Szigrati tells you. He's spreading the report that Badegast won't run just in order that the odds may be longer.
Margaret. Why, that's just like speculation.
Clement. Well, don't you suppose we've got any speculators among us? For many men the whole thing is a business. Do you suppose a man like Szigrati has the slightest feeling for sport? He might just as well be on the stock exchange. But for the matter of that, as far as Badegast is concerned, people might well lay a hundred to one against him.
Margaret. Oh? I thought he looked splendid this morning.