It was too late. So he took a
rusk and a glass of lemonade, and retired to rest with a cool
head and a cooler heart.
The storm raged, the incessant flash played as it were round
the burnished cornice of the chamber, and threw a lurid hue on
the scenes of Watteau and Boucher that sparkled in the
medallions over the lofty doors. The thunderbolts seemed to
descend in clattering confusion upon the roof. Sometimes
there was a moment of dead silence, broken only by the
pattering of the rain in the street without, or the pattering
of the dice in a chamber at hand. Then horses were backed,
bets made, and there were loud and frequent calls for brimming
goblets from hurrying waiters, distracted by the lightning and
deafened by the peal. It seemed a scene and a supper where
the marble guest of Juan might have been expected, and had he
arrived, he would have found probably hearts as bold and
spirits as reckless as he encountered in Andalusia.
Book 1 Chapter 2
"Will any one do anything about Hybiscus?" sang out a
gentleman in the ring at Epsom. It was full of eager groups;
round the betting post a swarming cluster, while the magic
circle itself was surrounded by a host of horsemen shouting
from their saddles the odds they were ready to receive or
give, and the names of the horses they were prepared to back
or to oppose.
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