“Awful rot!” said Jim Lascelles.
“Don’t forget the tall dark fellow,” said Cheriton.
“Yes—no—yes,” said the gypsy; “and the tall dark man, and the tall fair man, and the short stout man—really, I don’t remember reading a hand so complex as this.”
“It was a tall fair man at Widdiford,” said Miss Perry.
The gypsy discarded the hand of Miss Perry with a gesture of petulance.
“That has spoiled everything,” said she.
“We were married at Widdiford,” said Miss Perry, “and we lived happily ever afterwards, and we only paid a shilling.”
“I am afraid shilling fortunes are always untrustworthy,” said Cheriton. “But I should like a little more information about that red-faced, apoplectic fellow.”
“They might very easily marry,” said the gypsy, in a sinister manner.
“Awful rot!” muttered Jim.