‘What shall I guess, lady?’ she asked.
‘If I have children, what will be their age?’
She stared close into my face with so fierce and piercing a gaze that nothing but the excitement of my curiosity hindered me from rising and widening my distance from her.
‘What will be their age? What will be their age?’ she muttered, passing her hand over my face without touching it; ‘why, whether they are living or dead, they will be young, and the youngest will be an infant that is not eighteen months old, and the eldest will not yet be six. You will find that right.’
She watched me with a surly smile whilst I turned my eyes inwards and underwent one of my old terrible, dark conflicts. Presently I raised my eyes to her face, and said, ‘How many children do you guess I have?’
‘Guess! Guess!’ she answered; then, once more advancing her face close to mine, she looked at me, drew back, and said, ‘You have two children.’
‘If I am a married woman, why do I not wear a wedding ring?’ said I, not choosing to venture the word guess again.
‘That was a part of the fortune I told you,’ said she. ‘There are thieves at sea as there are thieves on land. Your rings were stolen.’
‘Why did the thieves leave my purse?’
‘Was I there to see?’ she exclaimed, hunching her shoulders. ‘Why did they not steal your clothes? Why did not they take your life? You are a married woman, I say, and you should wear a wedding ring according to the custom of your country; and if you have not a ring it is because it was stolen.’