"I used to have," I said.
She rose to her feet and Heroine drew away from her, firmly and rudely.
"Don' min' me, honey," said the old woman, and she held out a hand like
a monkey's paw. To my astonishment Heroine began to crane her head
toward the hand, sniffed at it presently, gave a long sigh of relief
and stood at ease, muscles relaxed, and eyelids drooping.
"Now I believe you," I said. "What else can you do?"
She turned her bright, beady eyes this way and that, searching perhaps
for anyone who might be watching and listening. Then she said, "I kin
tell fo'tunes, boss."
"Just tell me my name."
"You is Mista Mannering, boss."
"Hum, that's too easy," I said. "I've been coming to Aiken a great
many years. What is my horse's name?"
"Her name is He'win, boss."
"Hum," I said and felt a little creepy feeling of wonder.
"Does you want to know any mo'?"