He drank his whisky-and-water
deliberately, like one, to use a racing expression, who had been over the
course before.
"I've 'eard that argument. I know all about it, but it don't alter me. Too
many strange things occur for me to think that everything can be
calculated with a bit of lead-pencil in a greasy pocket-book."
"What has the grease of my pocket-book to do with it?" replied Journeyman,
looking round. The company smiled and nodded. "You says that signs and
omens is above any calculation of weights. Never mind the pocket-book,
greasy or not greasy; you says that these omens is more to be depended on
than the best stable information."
"I thought that you placed no reliance on stable information, and that you
was guided by the weights that you calculated in that 'ere pocket-book."
"What's my pocket-book to do with it? You want to see my pocket-book;
well, here it is, and I'll bet two glasses of beer that it ain't greasier
than any other pocket-book in this bar."
"I don't see meself what pocket-books, greasy or not greasy, has to do
with it," said William. "Walter put a fair question to Herbert. The omen
didn't come out right, and Walter wanted to know why it didn't come out
right."
"That was it," said Journeyman.
All eyes were now fixed on Ketley. "You want to know why the omen wasn't
right? I'll tell you--because it was no omen at all, that's why.
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