Everybody knew him but nobody knew anything about him.

Poor old Caneback! I wish he had managed to die anywhere else and I don't feel at all obliged to Purefoy for sending that brute of a mare here.
He said something to me about that wretched ball;--not altogether so wretched! was it?
But I didn't like what he said and told him a bit of my mind.

Now we're two for a while; and I don't care for how long unless he comes round.
I cannot stand a funeral, and I shall get away from this.
I will pay the bill and Purefoy may do the rest.

I'm going for Christmas to Surbiton's near Melton with a string of horses.

Surbiton is a bachelor, and as there will be no young ladies to interfere with me I shall have the more time to think of you.