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heard at least three of them ask him to join the big luncheon picnic at the cars. But he had promised to lunch with his trainer and “some other chaps” in the public dining-room, he told them. Ann was glad that he did not seem unduly elated by this sudden rise to social eminence. He was not dropping his own old friends for the sake of new ones. But it was very evident that his attractive personality, and his uncommon good looks, had won him an unsought popularity. He was an “owner” too. Nigger was believed to have a very good chance for the steeplechase.

Though Ann had stood near to Rodney in the crowd in front of the stand more than once, she had never actually caught his eye. She could not be sure that he had even seen her. And so, as the day wore on, although she was enjoying herself, her spirits flagged a little. Marsh had spent some of his time with Stephanie and her friends. He had even taken them down to the saddling paddock to see Nigger in his loose-box. Surely he might have invited her—to whom he had first confided the secret of Nigger’s future career as a “chaser”—to join the party? But he didn’t. He seemed utterly unaware of her presence on the course.

Ann told herself that the day was not quite so enjoyable to her as the former race meetings had been, because she wasn’t backing winners. She had not succeeded in collecting one winning ticket from the totalisator. But the few pounds she was losing she would retrieve on the steeplechase at three o’clock. She had no doubt at all in her mind as to the result of the race. Rodney had said Nigger would win, and she still had implicit faith in his judgment in such matters. She remembered that hot summer afternoon