“Oh, Ken, that reminds me. You know my crystal ball?”
“I do indeed; I selected it with utmost care.”
“Yes, it’s a gem. Perfectly flawless. Well, I’ll get it, and see if we can see things in it.”
Patty ran for her crystal, and returning to the library held it up to the fading sunlight, and tried to look into it.
“That isn’t the way, Patty; you have to lay it on black velvet, or something dark.”
“Oh, do you? Well, here’s a dark mat on this table. Try that.”
They gazed intently into the ball, and though they could see nothing, Patty felt a weird sense of uncanniness.
Ken laughed when she declared this, and said:
“Nothing in the world but suggestion. You think a Japanese crystal ought to make you feel supernatural, and so you imagine it does. But it doesn’t any such nonsense. Now, I’ll tell you why I like them. Only because they’re so flawlessly perfect. In shape, colour, texture,—if you can call it texture,—but I mean material or substance. There isn’t an attribute that they possess, except in perfection. That’s a great thing, Patty; and you can’t say it of anything else.”
“The stars,” said Patty, trying to look wise.