First Woman. Oh, don't, for goodness sake, talk like that—I'm sure I don't want to see nothing 'appen.
Second Woman. Well, you may make your mind easy—for you won't see nothing here; you would have it this was the best place to come to!
First Woman. I only said there was no sense in paying extra for the balcony, when you can go in the area for nothing.
Second Woman (snorting). Area, indeed! It might be a good deal airier than what it is, I'm sure—I shall melt if I stay here much longer.
The Morbid Man. There's one thing about being so close to the jump as this—if the 'orse jumps sideways—as 'osses will do every now and then—he'll be right in among us before we know where we are, and then there'll be a pretty how-de-do!
Second Woman (to her Friend). Oh, come away, do—it's bad enough to see nothing, let alone having a great 'orse coming down atop of us, and me coming out in my best bonnet, too—come away!
[They leave.
The Descriptive Man. Now they're going to make 'em do some in-and-out jumping, see? they're putting the fences close together—that'll puzzle some of them—ah, he's over both of 'em; very clean that one jumps! Over again! He's got to do it all twice, you see.
The Judge of Horseflesh. Temperate horse, that chestnut.
The Severe Critic. Is he, though?—but I suppose they have to be here, eh? Not allowed champagne or whiskey or anything before they go in—like they are on a racecourse?