two in the morning
She had another girl with her , and her brother , Jerome Hubbard , the `` whip '' who used to drive with Mr. Fownes . When I had been introduced , she asked me to come to supper at a place I 'd never heard of , and declared that her brother would have a fit if we did n't disburse some of his savings immediately . The little girl who was with her -LRB- I sha n't write her name down -RRB- was a lively bit of goods , and I was ready enough to go if only to cheer up `` Ferdy , '' who , to be sure , had become a different man already , and was talking and laughing with Maisa just as though they had been first `` cousins '' for a twelvemonth or more . In the end we ate Mr. Jerome 's supper , and got back to our little beds at two in the morning : not an over-good preparation for a great race , as any driver will admit ; but my friend seemed himself again , and I would have eaten half a dozen suppers to bring that about . This was two days before the meeting , I should tell you , and I saw little of Ferdinand until that memorable June morning , when , at half-past three precisely , Girardot got away on his C.G.V. , and was followed two minutes later by Fournier on his Mors . I have taken part in many a big race since , but never one which excited me more than that famous dash from Paris to Vienna , which was to make the fortune of more than one English house , and to bring the Gordon Bennett Cup to England for the first time in the motor story . I firmly believed my friend Ferdinand was to win the race , and presentiment goes farther in this world than many folks think .