First Horsey Man. Ah, here you are. Well, look 'ere, are you going to take Thirty Pounds for that horse o' yourn? Yes or No!
C.G. (turning upon them with dignity). No, Sir; most emphatically No! I've told you before I will not sell him to you at any price. Have the goodness to leave us—at once, I'm engaged with my friend here.
[Horsey Men turn away despondently. Enter hurriedly, a shabby-looking Groom.
Groom. Oh, look here, Mister—er—er—wot's yer name? His Lordship wants to know whether you'll take his offer of Thirty-five Pounds—or Guineas—for that roan. He wouldn't offer as much, only it happens jest to match—
C.G. (with great decisiveness). Inform his Lordship, with my compliments, that I regret to be entirely unable to entertain his proposition.
Groom. Oh, very well. But I wish you'd jest step out and tell his Lordship so yerself. He's jest round the corner at the 'otel entrance, a flicking of his boots, as irritated as a blue-bottle caught in a cowcumber frame.
C.G. Oh, certainly, with pleasure. (To I.P.) If you'll excuse me, Sir, just one moment, I'll step out and speak to his Lordship.
[Exit, followed by Groom.
Horsey Person (making a rush at I.P. as soon as C.G. has disappeared, speaking in a breathless hurry). Now lookye here, guv'nor—sharp's the word! He'll be back in arf a jiff. You buy that 'oss! He won't sell it to us, bust 'im; but you've got 'im in a string, you 'ave. He'll sell it to you for eighteen quid—p'raps sixteen. Buy it, Sir, buy it! We'll be outside, by the pub at the corner, my pal and me, and—(producing notes)—we'll take it off you agen for thirty pounds, and glad o' the charnce. We want it pertikler, we do, and you can 'elp us, and put ten quid in your own pocket too as easy as be blowed. Ah! here he is! Mum's the word! Round the corner by the pub! [Exeunt hurriedly.
Clerical Gent (blandly). Ah! that's settled. His Lordship was angry, but I was firm. Take Bogey back to the stable, TOM—unless, of course—(looking significantly at Inexperienced Person).