"Very well. I know I'm a good deal of a fool—but sometimes a slight thing turns the stream. I thought it was all rot—a play that you'd made up—this line business." Raymond spoke hurriedly. "Of course I'd heard of it, but I never gave it a thought. Just for sport, after that first day, I got bushels of books and I've been sitting up nights reading. There's something in it!"
Joan laughed. The man looked like an excited boy who had started a toy engine going.
"See here! They say your left hand is what you start with; your right hand what you have made of yourself—that line that you have and I have is in my right hand—is yours in both?"
Joan tried not to look—but ended in looking.
"No," she replied. "I reckon it only comes in the right hand with anybody."
"No, it doesn't; the lady I was with the other day hadn't it in either hand!"
"Isn't she lucky?" Joan laughed.
"No, she isn't!" Raymond spoke solemnly. "Only the people who have it—are."
"I'm going now." Joan got up; and so did Raymond.
"See here," he said, bluntly. "I've never had a bit of adventure in my life—I'm a stick. I don't know what you will think of me; I don't care much; but you've started something in me; it's nothing I'm ashamed of, either, and you needn't be afraid. But won't you talk to me some time—about—well, this stunt and some other things?"