"Won't you step round, sir, to the private bar?" said William. "You'll be
more comfortable."
"Hardly worth while. I was at the theatre, and I thought I'd come in and
have a look round.... I see that you haven't forgotten the old horses," he
said, catching sight of the prints of Silver Braid and Summer's Dean which
William had hung on the wall. "That was a great day, wasn't it? Fifty to
one chance, started at thirty; and you remember the Gaffer tried him to
win with twenty pound more than he had to carry.... Hullo, John! very glad
to see you again; growing strong and well, I hope?"
The old servant looked so shabby that Esther was not surprised that Ginger
did not shake hands with him. She wondered if he would remember her, and
as the thought passed through her mind he extended his hand across the
bar.
"I 'ope I may have the honour of drinking a glass of wine with you, sir,"
said William. Ginger raised no objection, and William told Esther to go
down-stairs and fetch up a bottle of champagne.
Ketley, Journeyman, Stack, and the others listened eagerly. To meet the
celebrated gentleman-rider was a great event in their lives. But the
conversation was confined to the Barfield horses; it was carried on by the
merest allusion, and Journeyman wearied of it. He said he must be getting
home; the others nodded, finished their glasses, and bade William
good-night as they left.
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