"How do you do it, Louis ?" "I don't; it tips.

Come, Shiela, if you don't mind.

Come on, Billy." Tressilvain seated himself and glanced furtively about him.
"I dare say you're all in this game," he said, with a rattling laugh.
"It's no game.

If the table tips it tips, and our combined weight can't hold it down," said Malcourt.

"If it won't tip it won't, and I'll bet you a hundred dollars that you can't tip it, Herby." Tressilvain, pressing his hands hard on the polished edge, tried to move the table; then he stood up and tried.