"You've had success. You will have it continuously. But you won't live
long."
"What have I to avoid?" Adam demanded.
"Can't avoid your fate. You asked me to tell you everything."
"Tell me about my past," said Adam, feebly, the final remnant of
shrewdness in him urging him to get the true measure of Balsamo before
matters grew worse.
"Your past?" Balsamo murmured. "Keep your left hand quite still,
please. You aren't married. You're in business. You've never thought of
marriage--till lately. It's not often I see a hand like yours. Your
slate is clean. Till lately you never thought of marriage."
"How lately?"
"Who can say when the idea of marriage first came to you? You couldn't
say yourself. Perhaps about three months ago. Yes--three months. I see
water--you have crossed the sea. Is all this true?"
"Yes," admitted Adam.
"You're in love, of course. Did you know you have a rival?"
"Yes." Once more Adam was startled.
"Is he fair? No, he's not fair. He's dark. Isn't he?"
"Yes."
"Ah! The woman. Uncertain, uncertain. Mind you I never undertake to
foretell anything; all I guarantee is that what I do foretell will
happen.
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