“I know you would not wish an animal to be in pain,” he went on, “not if it was easy to prevent. Say you will come and see this animal. I assure you it’s one of the best in my stable.”
“Very well, I will come,” Candida consented.
‘It will only take a few seconds,’ she thought and wondered what could be wrong with a horse that its own coachman could not diagnose.
The carriage was standing outside the front door. It was a closed barouche drawn by a pair with the coachman and footman on the box. Candida would have gone to the nearer horse, but Sir Treshman checked her.
“It’s the animal on the offside,” he said.
Candida, lifting her dress with both hands, walked round the back of the barouche out of sight of the front door. The footman had dismounted from the box and was holding open the
