“De Queechy should have known her,” continued Madame. “He always loved everything out of the common. Well, and now for the prophecy. What is all this, Mr. Vivian?”
“The result of last night’s observation,” said the Prophet.
“Do you call that a cycloidal curve?” asked Madame, with a contralto laugh that shook the library. “Look, Jupiter!”
Mr. Sagittarius glanced over his wife’s heaving shoulder.
“Very poor, my dear, very irregular indeed.”
“It’s the best I could do,” said the Prophet, still politely.
“I daresay,” replied Mr. Sagittarius. “I daresay. Where’s your star-map?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” answered the Prophet. “I left it in the pomade.”
“The pomade!”
“Yes, the butler’s own special pomade, and it seems to have disappeared.”