today?
The telephone whirred inside.
―Twenty eight … No, twenty … Double four … Yes.
Spot the Winner
Lenehan came out of the inner office with Sport ’s tissues.
―Who wants a dead cert for the Gold cup? he asked. Sceptre with O. Madden up.
He tossed the tissues on to the table.
Screams of newsboys barefoot in the hall rushed near and the door was flung open.
―Hush, Lenehan said. I hear feetstoops.
Professor MacHugh strode across the room and seized the cringing urchin by the collar as the others scampered out of the hall and down the steps.