“I hope we have done nothing to disturb the spirits,” he said genially, at the first opportunity.
“It’s not you—it’s that Dutch yodler!” said Madame Probasco, taken strategically on flank. “He broke up a see-ance only last night and sent me into a fit of hysterics. It’s an outrage!”
“Madame, have I your permission to speak to Mr. Schneibel?” said Tootles majestically.
“’Deed you’ll save my life if you do,” said Madame Probasco, with a fleshy sigh. “What was it you wanted—oh, yes, a sphinx,” she added, turning toward the mantelpiece, where underneath gleaming death-masks and plastered hands was a collection of scarabs, elephants, and a bronze fragment representing the sphinx in the shadow of the Pyramid.
“One moment—don’t move!” said Tootles, in an excited voice. “Hold that position—by Jove, that is marvelous now!”
“Heavens! what is the matter?” said Madame Probasco, startled.
“Madame Probasco, have you ever posed—has any one ever done your portrait?”
“There’s Mooney, down on the second floor, did a colored photo that wasn’t bad—”
“No, no; I mean did you ever have your portrait painted? By jove, just that moment—then I caught an expression—I say, do you know you would make a remarkable symbolic study of the Sphinx?”
“Really?” said Madame Probasco, smiling and fastening the brooch at her neck, which had become undone, with a reawakening of coquetry.