“I wash I could know their skill to be second sight, since they prophesied to me such smooth things; but, in truth, I think it was only INSIGHT,” replied Drusilla.
“‘Insight?’”
“Nothing more.”
“But how did she know that Lenny was not my son when I told her he was?”
“By that same gift of insight, which I think they cultivate to a great perfection. She read you, Anna—she saw through you. She knew by your manner that you were Dick’s wife; but also that your bright face had never been clouded by a mother’s cares.”
“And by the same power she divined that you were both wife and mother.”
“Yes; she looked in my face, not in my hand. They say that ‘every face is a history, or a prophecy,’—certainly every face seems to be both to these skilful physiognomists, the gipsies.”
“It is their insight, then, that gives them such knowledge of human nature?”
“Of course. They may be very ignorant of books, but they are very learned in men and women.”
“You must have studied the gipsy while she was studying you.”