Gay Lawless

"Of course I know you're mad on steeple-chasing," she said, tilting her nose in the air, "but you needn't be bigoted; it's not the only sport, and anyhow you can't deny that Mr....

Professor Lawless was a scientist, and, as is common among professors and scientists, very eccentric. A Bachelor of Medicine, he had practised as much or as little as pleased hi...

"Are you still of the same mind about Trotting?" Carlton Mackrell asked Gay as they sat at the dainty, rose-lit table of the dining-room in Connaught Square a few nights later.

A pretty red-and-white house, gabled, with old-fashioned diamond-paned windows, it stood at the top of a lawn (on which in the summer Chris played sundry hard sets of tennis to...

Gay Lawless looked particularly bewitching the while she entertained her visitors that afternoon. She seemed more charming than usual to both Chris and Carlton Mackrell, while e...

A bright, frosty morning broke for Kempton's second day, and at Epsom, Chris Hannen whistled and sang while he cold-tubbed and dressed, in sheer light-heartedness born of the pl...

Acting on Carlton's advice, Gay did not enter her horses for Blackpool, Glasgow, Liverpool, Belfast, or Leeds; the Irish Meetings were of course out of the question with so smal...

In a spirit of pure mischief Gay had invited Lossie Holden to accompany her and Chris Hannen to see Silver Streak's début, and they drove the short distance from the station to...

It was by deliberate intention, not accident, that Lossie found the Professor alone on the day following Silver Streak's victory, and conveyed to his mind her own epicurean disg...

"She called her low, Frank, fancy that! Dear old Min, who was always so good to us, and never said an unkind word. You remember her well enough, don't you?"

The Professor, Gay said, was always late. It was her solemn conviction that he would be late for his own funeral, so she considered herself lucky to get to the Ffolliott's dance...

It was curious how that opportunity never arrived, and Carlton came to regret very heartily the introduction that had resulted in the rapid installation of Rensslaer as a friend...

"Heron," cried Gay, waving a letter at him, across the breakfast table one morning early in March, "I've got an invitation for you! Effie and Tom Bulteel are taking their coach...

"It was a beautiful case," said the Professor, looking rapturously at Gay through his glasses, and he fired off a lot of technical terms that she did not in the least understand...

It was not without protest on the part of the Professor that Rensslaer drove Gay to Waterloo Park for the race for the Gold Vase, and when, punctually to the minute, the latter...

There was no time to warm up the horse; she had to trot down fast to her mark, overshot it some forty yards, and swung her horse round in a hurry, spurting to get up to her mark...

If God sends friends, the devil sends collaterals, for the former, in addition to their superior good qualities, at least have the civility to knock at your door, the latter wal...

"I had all I want in town," he said, sitting down opposite Chris. He look tired and ill; it is always easier for a dark man to look out of sorts than a fair one, and in spite of...

Those who thought they knew their Gay, and that she was humbled, penitent, and willing to amend her "trotting" ways, speedily found themselves mistaken on this point, and the fi...

Tom Bulteel, red-faced, blue-eyed, taciturn, with Gay beside, and his wife and Rensslaer behind him, tooled his bays down to the next Trotting Meeting, and tried to look as plea...

Unhappy about Chris, worried at Carlton's self-expatriation, and deeply dissatisfied with her sporting experiment, Gay got into the way of going much oftener to the little South...

Lossie, waiting in the tiny blue dining-room in South Street for Gay to fetch her, glanced round at the blue walls, the old copper prints, the bits of old Nankin, at the flowers...

After all, it was chance that dictated Gay should go to Elsinore, or rather the accident of Rensslaer's having cut in just before the Professor, and obtained a certain rare edit...

In striking contrast to the simplicity of Rensslaer's house was the vastness of these outdoor belongings, where was celebrated the cult, the worship, the very apotheosis of the...

Chris looked very white and thin, but just as smart as ever, and completely unsubdued in spirit and intention, when he called in Connaught Square one afternoon late in May, and...

It was characteristic of Carlton Mackrell that he should turn up unexpectedly in the Park one afternoon, looking his usual unruffled self, and greet the little party sitting und...

Chris returned from Elsinore decidedly quiet, not to say subdued in manner. Gay thought it was because in the enchanted world of horses he had entered there, the steeplechaser f...

Rensslaer had taken half-a-dozen tickets for the Royal day, and any special shows that he thought would appeal to Gay. Tom Bulteel had liberally provided for the Harness classes...

Chris's enjoyment reached perhaps its culminating point in the round-the-course jumping competition, that took the place of the high jump--a real good, stiff and varied steeplec...

Rensslaer appeared immediately after breakfast next morning in Connaught Square, and Gay, warmly congratulating him on his victories, heard that the result of the great show wor...

It was not until Chris had caught Gay in those long, muscular arms of his, and lifted her clean off her feet, only to find her fiercely fighting his kisses, that he realised how...

It was late October, and Chris was riding harder than ever, and on the principle, as he told himself grimly, of "lucky in horses, unlucky in love," was having success after succ...

These two always understand one another, almost as well, Gay thought, only differently, as she and Chris did. And Gay knew his story now, shyly suggested rather than told, a sto...