Leigh looked toward the red-haired Renny with some apprehension. "I suppose so," he said. Then he had an idea—impulsive, extravagant, but one to break the ice between himself and Finch's brother.
He said: "I wonder, Mr. Whiteoak, if you could tell me where I might buy a good saddle horse. I have been wanting one for some time"—he was in truth afraid of horses—"but I haven't found—haven't been quite able" His sentence broke down weakly.
There was no need for him to finish it. The arrogant face before him softened into an expression of almost tender solicitude. Renny said: "It's a good thing young Finch brought you out. It's a serious matter, buying a horse if you are inexperienced. Especially a saddle horse. I was talking the other day to a young fellow who had paid a fancy price for one and it had turned out not only nasty-tempered but a wind-sucker. A handsome beast, too. But he'd got badly stung. I have" He hesitated, examining a bleeding knuckle which Darkie had jammed against the manger.
"Yes, yes," said Arthur, eagerly, though he felt a certain resentment at the ease with which the barrier between had been swept away when the possibility of a deal in horseflesh had appeared.
Renny took the knuckle from his lips. "I have a lovely three-year-old here—by Sirocco, out of Twilight Star—the image of his sire. You've seen Sirocco, of course?"
Arthur shook his head.
Renny regarded him pityingly. "You haven't? Well, I'll take you around to see him. Every stallion, you must know—that is, every really great stallion—reproduces himself absolutely only once. And Sirocco has only done it once. But perhaps"—he had been about to lead the way down the passage, but he wheeled, as though by an arresting thought—"perhaps you don't care much about breeding points, and just want a"
"Not at all," interrupted Arthur. "It must be a real beauty, everything you say"
"Horse like that can't be bought cheaply, you know."
