‘I know many things,’ she answered, ‘and one thing I know is that that purse was made in England.’
‘Well!’ said I, finding that she did not proceed in her speech.
‘Well!’ she echoed. ‘What would you think, lady, if you was to meet out upon the sea with a woman who did not know from what country she came, and who had in her pocket a purse made in England with English money in it, and who likewise had in her mouth good English such as you speaks? What would you think?’
‘I would think that she was English,’ said I.
‘And you are English,’ she exclaimed.
‘It does not help me to know that,’ cried I.
She stared into my eyes, but made no answer.
‘When you told my fortune,’ said I, ‘you said that I was a married woman. Since then feelings and fancies have visited me which make me believe you to be right. Now I want to know how you guessed that I was a married woman.’
‘We do not guess; we see,’ answered the gipsy.
‘Pray do not talk nonsense, but converse with me without any idea of fortune-telling. You looked at me, and knew me to be married woman. Plenty of others had looked at me, but none declared me to be a married woman, saving you. Tell me, then, what you saw in me to enable you to decide that I was a married woman?’