Better stick to my guinea a column in
the Morning Mail. The risks are so great, and the gains so small.
I don't believe outsiders ought to back their luck at all like this
on the Stock Exchange."
Montague Nevitt acquiesced with cheerful promptitude. "I agree
with you down to the ground," he said, lighting a cigarette, and
puffing away at it vigorously. "Outsiders ought not to back their
luck on the Stock Exchange. That, I take it, is a self-evident
proposition. But the point is, here, that you're not an outsider;
and you don't back your luck, which alters the case, you'll admit,
somewhat. You embark on speculations on my advice only, and I'm in
a position to judge, as well as any other expert in the City of
London, what things are genuine and what things are not worth a
wise man's attention."
He stretched himself on the sofa with a lazy, luxurious air, and
continued to puff away in silence at his cigarette for another ten
minutes. Then he drew unostentatiously from his pocket a folded
sheet of foolscap paper, printed after the fashion of the common
company prospectus. For a second or two he read it over to himself
in silence, till Guy's curiosity was sufficiently roused by his
mute proceeding.
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