SEVEN

Clarkson went back to join a group of gentlemen beside the ring in a few minutes, for he was to act as referee presently, and as usual had been put in charge of most of the arrangements. Patrick was so busy watching him, and thinking about his famous sparring school at No 15, Old Bay Street, and how he himself would be taking lessons there in a very short while, that he failed to notice the approach oh a curricle-and-four, which edged its way in neatly to a place immediately alongside his own gig and there drew up and stopped. 

A voice said, "starch is an excellent thing, but in moderation, Garbatela, for heaven's sake in moderation! I thought Jerome had dropped a hint in your ear?" 

The voice was a perfectly soft one, but it brought Patrick's head round with a jerk, and made him jump. It belonged to a gentleman who drove a team of blood chestnuts, and wore a great coat with fifteen capes. He was addressing an exquisite in an enormously high collar and neck clothe, w