"The dark one," Adam replied in spite of himself.
"Perhaps the fair one has not yet come into your life? No. But she will do."
"Look at that line. No, here! See how indistinct and confused it is. Your destiny is not yet settled. Frankly, I cannot tell you with certainty. No one can go in advance of destiny. Ah! Young man, I sympathize with you."
"Listen! I might help you. Yes, I might help you."
"What is not marked on your hand may be very clearly marked on theirs. Come to me again."
"How do you know they will come? They both said they should not."
"You said you would not. But you are here. Rely on me. They will come. I might do a great deal for you. Of course it will cost you more. One lives in a world of money, and I sell my powers, like the rest of mankind. I am proud to do so."
"Five pounds. You are free to take it or leave it, naturally."
Adam Tellwright put his hand in his pocket.
"Have the goodness to pay my secretary," Balsamo stopped him icily.
"I beg pardon," said Adam, out of countenance.
"Of course if they do not come the money will be returned. Now, before you go, you might tell me all you know about him, and about her. All. Omit nothing. It is not essential, but it might help me. There is a chance that it might make things clearer than they otherwise could be. The true palmist never refuses any aid."
And Adam thereupon went into an elaborate account of Florence Bostock and Ralph Martin. He left out nothing, not even that Ralph had a wart on his chin, and had once broken a leg; nor that Florence had once been nearly drowned in a swimming-bath in London.
Balsamo stared calmly at a young dark-browed man who had entered his sanctuary with much the same air as a village bumpkin assumes when he is about to be shown the three-card trick on a race-course. Balsamo did not even ask him to sit down.
"Why do you come to me? You don't believe in me," said Balsamo, curtly. "Why waste your half-sovereign?"
Ralph Martin, not being talkative, said nothing.
"However!" Balsamo proceeded. "Sit down, please. Let me look at your hands. Ah! yes! Do you want to know anything?"
"Let me advise you, then, to give up all thoughts of that woman."
"You know what woman. She is a very little woman. Once she was nearly drowned--far from here. You've loved her for a long time. You thought it was a certainty. And upon my soul you were justified in thinking so--almost! Look at that line. But it isn't a certainty. Look at that line!"