"It's bad," I put in morosely.
"Also it could be good," McGill said, with a gleam of scientific enthusiasm, "Why, it wouldn't surprise me, Alec, if you could do anything you wanted to that involved chance."
I didn't like the guinea-pigs'-eye view of him I got, and told him so. "Except for a couple of minor escapes, it's been highly inconvenient," I said. "I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I wish it would go and help somebody else."
"But, my God, man! Do you realize if you went to the track tomorrow, your horse probably couldn't lose?"
"I wouldn't get that far," I grumbled.
"And I bet if somebody threw a knife at you, it would miss!" McGill went on, ignoring me. "Here, I'd like to try an experiment...."
"Now, hold on!" I said.
"McGill! Are you crazy?" Molly cried, but he ignored her also and opened his desk drawer, from which he took a pair of dice.
"Roll me some sevens, Alec," he said, handing them to me.