They stood, confronted, looking at each other for a moment. Then, impulsively the fat woman offered her hand:
"Don't be afraid of me," she said. "I may look crooked, but I'm not. Your mother wouldn't mind my knowing you."
She held Athalie's narrow hand for a moment, and the girl looked into the faded eyes.
"Thank you for coming," she said. "I was lonely."
"Good girls usually are. It's a hell of an alternative, isn't it? I don't mean to be profane; hell is the word. It's hell either way for a girl alone."
Athalie nodded silently. Mrs. Bellmore looked at her, then glanced around the room, curiously.
"Hello," she said abruptly, "what's that?"
Athalie's eyes followed hers: "Do you mean the crystal?"
"Yes.... Say—" she turned to Athalie, nodding profound emphasis on every word she uttered:—"Say,
I thought there was something else to you—something I couldn't quite get next to. Now I know what's been bothering me about you. You're clairvoyant!"