His Grace — page 201: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

f1lS GRACE. 195 enough, Lady Charles went down on the Tuesday, and Friday, and Hurstbourne dragged me with him, fawute de mieux, on the other days. It was a disastrous busi- ness from start to finish, and when the meeting was at an end, he frankly confessed to me that matters were beginning to look devilish serious. “They began to look devilish serious some time ago,” I remarked with a sigh. “H’m! I suppose they did; there’s some comfort in that. Well, I may have better luck, and I think I shall, at Sandown, where I’m running a couple of my own horses. If that doesn’t come off but sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Did you see Paul Gascoigne swaggering about in the enclosure on Thursday ?” “No,” I answered; “I didn’t know that he was a patron of the turf.” “ ffe a patron of the turf!—rather not! I suppose he went down partly because he thought it was the proper thing to show himself at Ascot on the Cup Day, and partly because he hoped to witness my discomfiture. He wasn’t disappointed there; but he hasn’t bowled me out yet, I can tell him. I wish I knew what he meant by those everlasting insinuations of his that one can’t take hold of. I’m pretty sure that he has got hold of some story, true or false, about my father; but if he holds a trump-card, why doesn’t he play it ?”’ “Perhaps,” I suggested, “he is waiting to see what card you mean to play. My belief is that he won't trouble you if only you won’t interfere between him and Miss St. George, and it seems to me that you might oblige him to that extent without any great personal suffering or loss. Would you mind telling me one thing, Gomicboo KS (E(0)