Verinder's man, Biggs, who had been a fascinated spectator of the Wild West sports at Gunnison, was describing them to Fisher, maid to Lady Farquhar and general buttoner-up-the-back to the entire feminine contingent of the party.
"What do you mean when you say a horse bucks?" she wanted to know.
"'E throws down 'is 'ead and 'e throws up 'is 'eels and you cawn't remain," he explained, without entire originality.
"Fancy now!"
"Consequence is the rider lands himpromptu on terra firma, so to hexpress it."
"Dear me. But doesn't it make him dusty, Mr. Biggs?"
"A bit."
"Couldn't Captain Kilmeny ride one of the bronchos?"
"I've 'eard that the captain is a crack rider, none better in the harmy, Miss Fisher. 'E could ride the blawsted brute if it wouldn't 'ide its bloomin' 'ead between its legs."
Moya, patrolling the willow walk in front of the Lodge, took this in with a chuckle.