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CHAPTER XIII
A SENSATIONAL DERBY STRUGGLE
Is it for sordid pelf that horses race?
Or can it be the glory that they go for?
Neither; they know the steed that shows best pace
Will get his flogging all the sooner over!
Reflection at a Racecourse.—H. B. J.
THE Duchess, seeing that her plot was foiled by the unexpected arrival of Mr Bhosh, made the frantic endeavour to hedge herself behind another bet of a million sterling to a monkey that Milky Way was to come off conqueror—but in vain, since none of the welshers would concede such very long odds.
So, wrapping her features in a veil of feminine duplicity, she advanced swimmingly to meet Mr Bhosh. "How lucky that you have arrived on the neck of time!" she said.
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