As a rule, one
does not see this in the cards."
She looked really harassed, really distressed, and was still conning her
cards anxiously.
"And yet after all," she cried suddenly, "I may be wrong! Perhaps the
necklace has less to do with it than I thought! I do not know whether the
necklace would make any real difference! If she takes one of the roads
open to her, then I see no danger at all attaching to the preservation of
this necklace. But the other road leads straight to the House of Peril."
"The House of Peril?" echoed Sylvia Bailey.
"Yes, Madame. Do you not know that all men and women have their House of
Peril--the house whose threshold they should never cross--behind whose
door lies misery, sometimes dishonour?"
"Yes," said Anna Wolsky, "that is true, quite true! There has been, alas!
more than one House of Peril in my life." She added, "But what kind of
place is my friend's House of Peril?"
"It is not a large house," said the fortune-teller, staring down at
the shining surface of her table. "It is a gay, delightful little
place, ladies--quite my idea of a pretty dwelling.
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