“There’s a hundred pounds left, Esther. It isn’t much, but it’s something. I don’t believe that there’s much use in my going to Egypt. I shall never get well. It is better that I should pitch myself into the river. That would be the least selfish way out of it.”
“William, I will not have you talk in that way,” Esther said, laying down her work and going over to him. “If you was to do such a thing I should never forgive you. I could never think the same of you.”
“All right, old girl, don’t be frightened. I’ve been thinking too much about them horses, and am a bit depressed. I daresay it will come out all right. I think that Mahomet is sure to win the Great Ebor, don’t you?”
“I don’t think there’s no better judge than yourself. They all say if he don’t fall lame that he’s bound to win.”
