"You don't want to have your fortune told, Judy," he said, a little roughly.
Judy's eyebrows went up in surprise. "I do," she said. "It's fun."
"It's silly," contended Launcelot, doggedly.
The gipsy's eyes flashed from one to the other.
"You will come," he urged, ignoring Launcelot, and addressing his question to Judy.
"Yes."
"On Saturday?"
"Yes."
"Good; we will welcome you, pretty lady." And with a defiant glance at the big angry boy, the dark Hungarian swung down the path, singing as he went.
"You are not going," said Launcelot, when the man was out of sight.