Do you see anything?"
"No, I can see nothing," said Esther, after straining her eyes for a few
moments.
"I thought not.... Well, if it was going to rain you would see the Isle of
Wight."
For something to say, and hoping to please, Esther asked him where the
race-course was.
"There, over yonder. I can't show you the start, a long way behind that
hill, Portslade way; then they come right along by that gorse and finish
up by Truly barn--you can't see Truly barn from here, that's Thunder's
barrow barn; they go quite half a mile farther."
"And does all that land belong to the Gaffer?"
"Yes, and a great deal more, too; but this down land isn't worth much--not
more than about ten shillings an acre."
"And how many acres are there?"
"Do you mean all that we can see?"
"Yes."
"The Gaffer's property reaches to Southwick Hill, and it goes north a long
way. I suppose you don't know that all this piece, all that lies between
us and that barn yonder, once belonged to my family."
"To your family?"
"Yes, the Latches were once big swells; in the time of my
great-grandfather the Barfields could not hold their heads as high as the
Latches. My great-grandfather had a pot of money, but it all went."
"Racing?"
"A good bit, I've no doubt. A rare 'ard liver, cock-fighting, 'unting,
'orse-racing from one year's end to the other.
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