“What we must do,” he said, as if he was thinking it out, “is to leave our luggage at The Hall to be taken to the rooms we have been allotted and then go straight to the Racecourse.”
He paused.
“I want to watch the first two races. I am sure that the Marquis’s horses will win.”
“You are not going to bet on them?” Filipa asked nervously.
“I suppose I cannot afford it,” Mark said sulkily, “although I would be betting on a certainty.”
“A race is never a certainty until the winner has passed the Winning post,” Filipa pointed out.
It was a favourite saying of her father’s and Mark recognised it.
“If you are going to preach to me,” he asserted, “I shall put you down and you can walk home.”
“In which case you will have to find someone else to ride with you,” Filipa retorted.
“That is tru
