"Two up and one to play," I said, laughing. "You may as well have a third while you're about it; that will still leave you one to hedge with."
Bruce thought a moment.
"I wish that I may live for ever," he said.
"Good!" I cried. "You'll be able to read Hall Caine's next novel right through."
With this hopeful reflection I got up from my chair and walked to the window.
"Now this tomfoolery's over," I observed, with a yawn, "what are we going to do?"
Bruce scratched his ear.
"I shall go and call on Cynthia, I think," he said in a rather apologetic voice. "After all, you know," he added lamely, "there might be something in it."
"Superstition," I began, "when coupled with—" Then I stopped abruptly. The excellent aphorism that I was about to utter was never completed.
"What's up?" asked Bruce, turning to me in surprise.