In the distance you could still hear the mournful cry of the men on the gate trying to flog programmes to last-minute arrivals. A storm blew up in mid-Channel and the boat nearly turned back. The horse whose rider jabbed him in the mouth had had enough and refused the brush fence twice, the stile once, and was eliminated. Rupert, who sat next to Fen with his good arm along the back of her chair in a vaguely proprietorial way, did most of the talking.
Rupert had never suffered from nerves before, but he didn’t want to ride Macaulay in the final. “Well, they won’t cure her in here. Tm having lunch with Janey tomorrow,” she said. ”Boyson laughed fatly.
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