The crystal-gazer lived in a street off King’s Road, Chelsea, a long way down.
A little hunch-backed girl opened the door and asked them to go into the waiting-room. This was a small, curtained recess off the tiny hall, and contained two chairs and a rickety table covered with thin, cheap-looking publications. There were several copies of a psychic paper and various pamphlets that purported to deal with the occult.
“I’m a bit nervous, aren’t you?” whispered Elsie. She fiddled with her wedding-ring, and finally took it off and put it in her purse. When the hunch-backed child appeared at the curtains, both girls screamed slightly.
“Madame Clara is ready for you,” announced the little girl, in a harsh, monotonous voice.
She led them up to the first floor, into a room that was carefully darkened with blue curtains drawn across the windows. They could just discern a black figure, stout and very upright, sitting on a large chair in the middle of the room. A round stand set on a single slender leg was beside her.
Elsie clutched at Irene’s hand in a nervous spasm.
The black figure bowed from the waist without rising. “Do you wish me to see you both together, ladies?” Her voice was harsh and rather raucous in tone.
“Yes, please,” said Irene boldly.
“You quite understand that the charge will be the same as for two separate interviews?”
“Yes.”