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The hind-legs should be well bent at the stifle, with great length from the hip to the hock, which should be broad and flat. Cow hocks, weak pasterns, straight stifles, and splay feet are very bad faults. COAT The hair on the body, neck, and quarters should be harsh and wiry, and about 3 inches or 4 inches long; that on the head, breast, and belly is much softer.
Hillyard filled his glass. Port was his, and prestige too. He might write a successful play. That was all very well. He might go shooting for eight months along by the two Niles and the Dinder. That was all very well too. He was welcome at the Senga Mess. But he knew Sir Chichester Splay! He acquired in an instant the importance of a prodigy.
The motor-cars and the coaches streamed up over Duncton Hill and wound down the Midhurst Road to pleasant Charlton, with its cottages and gardens of flowers. Martin Hillyard went too. As he walked away from Captain Graham's eyrie he met Sir Chichester Splay in Pall Mall. "Where have you been these eight months?" inquired Sir Chichester. "'The Dark Tower' is still running, I see. A good play, Mr.
I haven't seen her until this moment, since I returned." "That's all right, Martin," Luttrell answered. The two men were alone in the hall. The tennis players had changed, and were out upon the court. Millie Splay had dragged Stella Croyle away with her to play croquet. Luttrell moved to a writing-table. "You are going to join the tennis players," he said.
Luttrell had written to Lady Splay to say that he would try to motor to Gatwick in time for the last races; and that he would look out for Jupp and Dennis Brown, whom he had already met earlier in the week at a dinner party given by Martin Hillyard. "There's no sign of him," Harold Jupp answered. There were two more races, but the party from Rackham Park did not wait for them.
"And no one else! Not even Dennis!" "Joan!" "No, not even Dennis! Promise me!" Millie Splay was heard to be inquiring for them both. "Very well. I promise!" "Oh, thank you! Thank you." The door from the hall was opened upon that cry of gratitude and Millie Splay looked in. "Oh, there you are." A movement of chairs became audible in the dining-room.
Bale, staring morosely at the crowd about the fire, crouched in the splay of the window, while the Colonel, in the same posture at the other window, gazed with feelings not more cheerful on the dark lake. He was concerned for himself and his companion; for he knew that frightened folk are ever the most cruel.
Croyle isn't down yet," said Miranda. "Stella isn't going, dear," answered Millie Splay; and a cry of dismay burst from Joan. "Not going!" The consternation in the girl's voice was so pronounced that every eye in that hall turned to her in astonishment. There was consternation, too, most legible in her widely-opened eyes. Her cheeks had lost their colour.
"It's nicer to be out at night," he said to Catherine. "Then you don't keep looking off at things; you can look inside;" and he struck his breast with his splay hand. Cattle are timorous under the stars.
One officer in one prison camp had heard of Harry Luttrell in another. A sergeant had seen him wounded, not mortally. A bullet had struck him in the foot. Joan lived upon these rumours. Finally proof came proof irrefutable. "Joan collapsed then," said Millie Splay. "We brought her down here and put her to bed. She cried oh, day and night! she who never cried!
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