read one of Desbarolles's books years ago, and one of Heron-Allen's.
But, he asked, had I tried to test them by the lines on my own hands or on
the hands of my friends? I confessed that my actual practice in palmistry
had been of a merely passive kind--the prompt extension of my palm to
any one who would be so good as to "read" it and truckle for a few
minutes to my egoism. (I hoped Laider might do this.)

"Then I almost wonder," he said, with his sad smile, "that you
haven't lost your belief, after all the nonsense you must have heard.
There are so many young girls who go in for palmistry. I am sure all the
five foolish virgins were 'awfully keen on it' and used to say, 'You can be
led, but not driven,' and, 'You are likely to have a serious illness between
the ages of forty and forty-five,' and, 'You are by nature rather lazy, but
can be very energetic by fits and starts.' And most of the professionals,
I'm told, are as silly as the young girls."

For the honor of the profession, I named three practitioners whom I
had found really good at reading character. He asked whether any of
them had been right about past events. I confessed that, as a matter of
fact, all three of them had been right in the main. This seemed to amuse
him. He asked whether any of them had predicted anything
which had since come true. I confessed that all three had predicted that
I should do several things which I had since done rather unexpectedly.
He asked if I didn't accept this as, at any rate, a scrap of evidence. I said
I could only regard it as a fluke--a rather remarkable fluke.

The superiority of his sad smile was beginning to get on my nerves.
I wanted him to see that he was as absurd as I.

"Suppose," I said--"suppose, for the sake of argument, that you and