`` `Do you know, poor little number eight hasn't won for
the last thirty-two times,' she said to Christine; `I've
been keeping count. I shall really have to put five francs
on him to encourage him.'
`` `Come and watch the dancing, dear,' said Christine
nervously. It was scarcely a part of their strategy that
Roger should come in and find the old lady backing her fancy
at the _petits chevaux_ table.
`` `Just wait while I put five francs on number eight,'
said the aunt, and in another moment her money was lying on
the table. The horses commenced to move round; it was a
slow race this time, and number eight crept up at the finish
like some crafty demon and placed his nose just a fraction
in front of number three, who had seemed to be winning
easily. Recourse had to be had to measurement, and the
number eight was proclaimed the winner. The aunt picked up
thirty-five francs. After that the Brimley Bomefields would
have had to have used concerted force to get her away from
the tables. When Roger appeared on the scene she was
fifty-two francs to the good; her nieces were hovering
forlornly in the background, like chickens that have been
hatched out by a duck and are despairingly watching their
parent disporting herself in a dangerous and uncongenial
element.
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