Rum thing I can't remember his name. I had travelled out
with him on the same boat once too. Have some more tea."
This was a specimen of most of Bobby Fraser's conversation. He was
brimful of anecdotes. They flowed as easily as water from a fountain.
Their source seemed inexhaustible. He never repeated himself to the
same person.
Muriel declined his offer of more tea. For some reason she wanted to
hear more of the man who had won the Great Mogul's Cup at Sharapura.
Bobby was more than willing to oblige. "Oh, it was sheer cheek that
carried him through, of course. I always said he was the cheekiest
beggar under the sun--quite a little chap he was, hideously ugly,
with a face like a baked apple, and eyes that made you think of a
cinematograph. You know the sort of thing. I used to think he had a
future before him, but he seems to have dropped out. He was only
about twenty when I had him for a stable-companion. I remember one
outrageous thing he did on the voyage out. There was card-playing
going on in the saloon one night, and he was looking on. One of the
lady-players--well, I suppose I may as well call it by its name--one
of them cheated. He detected it. Beastly position, of course. Don't
know what I should have done under the circumstances, but anyhow he
wasn't at a loss.
Pages:
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381