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Holmes kept her busily employed in many different ways in the house, and she had very little time she could really call her own, she had up till now been included in almost every small festivity. She couldn’t expect to be taken everywhere. And it was enough for her to know that she was enjoying every minute of this bright day.

It was just before the horses were taken into the saddling paddock for the steeplechase, that she met Rodney Marsh. Kent had been called away by some man, and Ann stood for a few minutes alone near the totalisator.

“Going to have a ticket on Nigger?” he asked.

“They all say he hasn’t any chance.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” he inquired contemptuously. “I say he can win. I ought to know.”

Ann suddenly made up her mind. She pulled out two pound notes and stuffed them into his hand.

“Get me two tickets,” she said quickly.

He grinned at her.

“You’re a sport!” he remarked. “Nigger won’t let you down.”

“He did once,” she answered promptly.

Marsh laughed.

“Well, he won’t this time, anyhow.”

He dashed off to get the tickets. Ann heard the ring of the totalisator bell as he put the money on, and in a moment he was beside her again, and pushed the tickets into her hand.

“By the way, I’ve got something belonging to you at home. I meant to return it before now.”

“Something of mine?”

“That poet chap’s book. I borrowed it the other day—cheek, wasn’t it?”