“I’ve seen enough,” said Humpty, running down the steps and out to the collecting ring to scramble on to Porky Boy as the first German rider rode leisurely into the ring. The boring pan had stuck; she’d clean it later. “Got him bad, ‘ave you?” said the taxi driver as the third application of Miss Dior in ten minutes fought with the diesel fumes. The despair of another wasted day overwhelmed her.
Fen, although horrified at dropping the letter, was thoroughly over-excited by the whole thing. Cow parsley rampaged along every verge, but Jake was not interested in scenery. Jake didn’t want to be around when Rupert came back. Then he kicked Belgravia into a gallop and sailed over the water, yanking him back to get him in line for the final triple.
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