"And now, Evalena," said Mrs. Winslow, rounding off her story with a great flourish over what she was to make out of Lyon, whom she described as still madly in love with her, "where have you been, and what have you been doing since I saw you at Chardon?"
The glib tongue of the marvellous Physical Spiritual Medium began at once, and she rattled away at a terrible rate.
"Well, I've got the same husband——"
"Oh, pshaw!" interrupted Mrs. Winslow half contemptuously.
"But he's such a dear, good old fool that I can't throw him over. Why, I can make him shrink from six feet two to two feet six by just looking at him! Money couldn't hire such a devoted servant anywhere. He'll do just anything I tell him; and if I want him out of the way for a few days," she continued with a comical wink, "I just give him a fifty-dollar bill and say: 'Daddy, you don't look well; take a run into the country, and I'll write for you when I want you!' He goes away then with his face about a yard long. But he goes; and he never made a rumpus in his life!"
"Oh, that's quite another thing," said Mrs. Winslow, evidently relieved to know that Miss Gray had had so good a reason for living so long a time as three years with the same man.
"Yes, he's what I call an 'accommodation husband.' He accommodates me, and I—" here Miss Gray sighed piously—"accommodate myself!"
"Exactly," remarked Mrs. Winslow, beginning to appreciate the pleasant nature of such an arrangement.
"Well," resumed the marvellous medium, "we went all through the Ohio towns giving exposés; went out through Chicago, and then down to St. Louis. But the exposé business didn't pay. We found that people would pay more money to be humbugged than to learn how some other person might be deluded!"
"Every time!" tersely observed Mrs. Winslow.