It
is not very pleasant to have one's fortune told when one is as young and
as pretty as you are, before other people."
"Of course I don't mind your being here!" cried Sylvia Bailey,
laughing--then, looking doubtfully at Madame Cagliostra, though it was
obvious the Frenchwoman did not understand English, "The truth is that I
should feel rather frightened if you were to leave me here all by myself.
So please stay."
Madame Cagliostra began dealing out the cards on the table. First slowly,
then quickly, she laid them out in a queer pattern; and as she did so she
muttered and murmured to herself. Then a frown came over her face; she
began to look disturbed, anxious, almost angry.
Sylvia, in spite of herself, grew interested and excited. She was sorry
she had not taken off her wedding-ring. In England the wise woman always
takes off her wedding-ring on going to see a fortune-teller. She was
also rather glad that she had left her pearls in the safe custody of
M. Girard. This little house in the Rue Jolie was a strange, lonely
place.
Suddenly Madame Cagliostra began to speak in a quick, clear, monotonous
voice.
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