Louis and I and my father used to do it.

I don't know how it's done, and nobody else does.

Personally I think it's rather a stupid way to spend an evening--" "But," interrupted Portlaw, "there'll be nothing stupid about it if the table begins to tip up here under our very fingers.

I'll bet you, Louis, that it doesn't.

Do you care to bet ?" "Shouldn't the lights be put out ?" asked Tressilvain.
Malcourt said it was not necessary, and cautioned everybody to sit absolutely clear of the table, and to rest only the tips of the fingers very lightly on the surface.
"Can we speak ?" grinned Portlaw.
"Oh, yes, if you like." A bright colour glowed in Malcourt's face; he looked down dreamily at the top of the table where his hands touched.