“But toads haven’t hair, Suzanne!”
“It was M. Caracal told me.”
“Oh, if you’re going to believe all that he says—”
“Poor old woman!” observed Will, “living in such a hole, stuck to her rock like an oyster in its shell!”
“That doesn’t prevent her consulting the stars and occupying herself with Jupiter, and knowing a hundred and ten ways of foretelling the future.”
“A hundred and ten ways—that’s a great deal,” replied Will. “Which is the best of them all?”
“Let’s count on our fingers,” said Ethel. “I’ll begin. Aëromancy, by the air; aleuromancy, by flour; telomancy, by arrows—”
“—Dactylomancy, by the fingers; chiromancy, by the hand; podomancy, by the feet!” continued Phil.
“Hydromancy, by water,” Ethel began again. “Rhabdomancy, by sticks—”
“That’s for Poufaille,” thought Suzanne. “Vive la rhabdomancie!”