A laugh that was horrible to hear broke from the lips of the veiled woman opposite him.
"That you will never be able to do!" she cried, fiercely. "Though she may cross your path at will, you might as well hunt for a particular grain of sand along the sea-shore, a needle in a haystack, a special blade of grass in a whole field. You may recognize this fact, and abide by it. But, hark you! listen to what I have to say: The fates have decreed that your heart shall be wrung as you have wrung hers—pang for pang!"
"Who and what are you," he cried, "who talk to me in this way? You act more like a vengeful spirit than a woman unconcerned in my affairs. Who and what are you, anyhow?"
"I tell you only what I see," was the muttered response.
"See where?" demanded Kendal in agitation.
"That is not for you to know."
"But I shall—I will know!" he cried, furiously. "There is something underneath all this trumpery. I am not a man to be trifled with in this fashion, I can tell you, with your fortune-telling nonsense—humbuggery!"
"Then, pray, what brings you here? what is your object in coming?" asked the other, with a covert sneer.
"To hear what lies you could trump up," replied Kendal boldly.
"Our interview is ended," said the veiled figure, rising and pointing her long arm toward the door.