But before Esther could make out for certain that the man in the blue
Melton jacket was Bill Evans he had passed out of sight, and she had to
wait until his horse came round the second time. At that moment she caught
sight of the red poppies in Sarah's hat.
The horses began to slacken speed. They went slower and slower, then
stopped altogether. The riders began to dismount and Esther pressed
through the bystanders, fearing she would not be able to overtake her
friends.
"Oh, here you are," said Sarah. "I thought I never should find you again.
How hot it is!"
"Were you on in that ride? Let's have another, all three of us. These
three horses."
Round and round they went, their steeds bobbing nobly up and down to the
sound of fifes, drums and cymbals. They passed the winning-post many
times; they had to pass it five times, and the horse that stopped nearest
it won the prize. A long-drawn-out murmur, continuous as the sea, swelled
up from the course--a murmur which at last passed into words: "Here they
come; blue wins, the favourite's beat." Esther paid little attention to
these cries; she did not understand them; they reached her indistinctly
and soon died away, absorbed in the strident music that accompanied the
circling horses. These had now begun to slacken speed.... They went slower
and slower.
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