“All true, but the revoking,” said Severne, merrily. “Monster! by the memory of those youthful days, I demand a fair hearing.” Then, gravely, “Hang it all, Vizard, I am not a fellow that is always intruding his affairs and his theories upon other men.”
“No, no, no,” said Vizard, hastily, and half apologetically; “go on.”
“Well, then, of course I don't pretend to foreknowledge; but I do to experience, and you know experience teaches the wise.”
“Not to fling five hundred after three. There—I beg pardon. Proceed, instructor of youth.”
“Do listen, then: experience teaches us that luck has its laws; and I build my system on one of them. If two opposite accidents are sure to happen equally often in a total of fifty times, people, who have not observed, expect them to happen turn about, and bet accordingly. But they don't happen turn about; they make short runs, and sometimes long ones. They positively avoid alternation. Have you not observed this at trente et quarante?”
“No.”
“Then you have not watched the cards.”
“Not much. The faces of the gamblers were always my study. They are instructive.”
“Well, then, I'll give you an example outside—for the principle runs through all equal chances—take the university boat-race: you have kept your eye on that?”
“Rather. Never missed one yet. Come all the way from Barfordshire to see it.”