3. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. But Gerald kept to a casual note. You understand me, I’m sure. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. "By all means," returned Wood; "don't delay an instant. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. In the bad light he looked at once military and sentimental and studious, like one of Ouida’s guardsmen revised by Mr. ‘Odds were against it.
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