Yeah, number eight. Telepathy.
He 's a lanky-looking piece of business,
but I bow to your superior knowledge.

- What is it? What ' s the matter?
- Don't bet him.

- Why not?
- He's walleyed.

Can we go now?
What a paragon you are.
You don't smoke, drink or gamble.

Just this once... for luck.
- I don't believe in luck.
- What do you believe in?

Oh, horses, maybe.
At least they're beautiful,

and nothing in this world like people.
Oh, yes, people. A thoroughly bad lot.
Did you have a tough childhood,
Mrs Taylor?

Not particularly
I think you did. I think you've had
a hard, tough climb.

But you're a smart girl, aren't you?
The careful grammar,
the quiet good manners.

- Where did you learn them?
- From my betters.

What about your tough childhood,
Mr Rutland?

The old, sad story.
Promising youth blighted.

Dragged down by money,
position, noblesse oblige.

By the time I came along,
the company was hanging on the ropes.

We had about 1,000 employees who were
about to go down for the count.

What about the Rutlands?
What would've happened to your family?
Nothing ever happens to a family that
traditionally marries

at least one heiress
every other generation.

(Crowd Cheering)
You shouldn't've chickened. Your
walleyed reject just won by 4 lengths.

I think I've had enough. Can we go?
If you like.
The track's open
till the end of the month.

That gives us two more Saturdays.