"And now I think you might go in, Felicity," she said.
Felicity found a young girl with bright pleasant eyes, seated in front of a little yellow table. She had a magnifying-glass on one side of her and a crystal ball on the other. She was very neatly dressed in the tailor-made style, and had no superfluous decorations of any kind. Anything less like a sibyl could not be easily imagined.
Felicity took off her glove and placed her hand on a yellow cushion. As she did so, she remembered charming things that Chetwode had said about her hands, how he had compared them to white flowers; and she sighed....
"You're vurry sensitive indeed," said the palmist, with a slight American accent. "Your nerves seem to me to be vibrating."
"But isn't that usual?" said Felicity shyly. "I thought nerves always did."
"Just hold the crystal in your hand for a minute or two. Thank you. Ah! there's a slight cloud on your horizon at this moment, but it will pass away—I see it passing away."
"What else do you see?"
"I see you in a large space surrounded by a hurrying crowd. There are bookstalls, trucks of luggage, trains, I can't say precisely what it is."
"Surely a railway station?" said Felicity.