“Her presence makes no difference,” said Vera quietly. “There will be no seance tonight. I will tell you about it later, Paul,” she added. She started toward the door, but Miss Coates moved as though to intercept her.
“If you think,” she cried eagerly, “you can give a seance to Mr. Hallowell without my knowing it, you are mistaken.”
Vera paused, and made a slight inclination of her head.
“That was not my idea,” she said. She looked appealingly to Vance. “Is that not enough, Paul?” she asked.
“Quite enough!” exclaimed the man. He turned to the visitor and made a curt movement of the hand toward the open door.
“There will be a seance tonight,” he declared. “At Mr. Hallowell’s. If you wish to protest against it, you can do so there. This is my house. If you have finished—” He repeated the gesture toward the open door.
“I have not finished,” said Miss Coates sharply; “and if you take my advice, you will follow her example.” With a nod of the head she signified Vera. “When she sees she’s in danger, she knows enough to stop. This is not a question of a few medium’s tricks,” she cried, contemptuously. “I know all that you planned to do, and I intend that tomorrow every one in New York shall know it too.”
Like a cloak Vera’s self-possession fell from her. In alarm she moved forward.
“What do you mean?” she demanded.
“I have had you people followed pretty closely,” said Miss Coates. Her tone was assured. She was confident that of those before her she was the master, and that of that fact they were aware.