A
moment after a score of pigeons floated and flew through the blue air and
then departed in different directions, some making straight for London,
others for the blue mysterious evening that had risen about the Downs--the
sun-baked Downs strewn with waste paper and covered by tipsy men and
women, a screaming and disordered animality.
"Well, so you've come back at last," said William. "The favourite was
beaten. I suppose you know that a rank outsider won. But what about this
gentleman?"
"Met these 'ere ladies on the 'ill an' been showing them over the course.
No offence, I hope, guv'nor?"
William did not answer, and Bill took leave of Sarah in a manner that told
Esther that they had arranged to meet again.
"Where did you pick up that bloke?"
"He came up and spoke to us, and Esther stopped to speak to the parson."
"To the parson. What do you mean?"
The circumstance was explained, and William asked them what they thought
of the racing.
"We didn't see no racing," said Sarah; "we was on the 'ill on the wooden
'orses. Esther's 'orse won. She got a mug; show the mug, Esther."
"So you saw no Derby after all?" said William.
"Saw no racin'!" said his neighbour; "ain't she won the cup?"
The joke was lost on the women, who only perceived that they were being
laughed at.
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