“I’m exhausted,” said the medium in a fatigued voice. “You will have to return to me another day—alone. All that I can say to you now, I have said. Beware of opals, and of a red-haired man. Your lucky stone is the turquoise—you should wear light blue, claret colour, and all shades of yellow, and avoid pinks, reds and purple.”
She stopped.
Elsie, though awestruck, was also vaguely disappointed. It did not seem to her that she had learnt a great deal about Irene, and the warnings about colours and precious stones might have come out of any twopenny booklet off a railway bookstall, such as “What Month Were You Born In?” or “Character and Fortune Told by Handwriting.”
Then she remembered that she herself had made Madame Clara angry by laughing, and that the woman had said the current was broken.
“Probably she’s furious,” Elsie thought, “and she won’t tell me as much as she told Ireen. And she’s got our money, too. What a swindle!”
“What about my friend?” said Irene Tidmarsh. Her voice sounded rather sulky.
“Your friend is a sceptic,” said the clairvoyante coldly.
“No, really——” Elsie began.
The woman turned towards her so abruptly that she was startled.
She could discern an enormous pair of heavy-looking dark eyes gazing into hers.