"Let's call it interest."
"You had no faith, then, in my palmistry?"
"Very little."
"Yet you acknowledge that I told you some things that were true?"
"Haven't I told you several things about yourself, too?"
"I'd like to hear more."
"Oh, I've said too much, already."
"Let's see. That I am more or less of a villain--"
"But a most interesting one!"
"That I have met you before--"
"Not perhaps 'met'--"
"That Fancy Gray is in love with me--"
"Oh, I didn't say that!"
"But you suspect it?"
"If I did, it was impertinent of me. It's none of my business."
"Well, you won't come again--you've quite satisfied your curiosity by
seeing me?"
"Quite. I've confirmed all my suspicions."
"What were they?"
Clytie laughed. "Really, you're pushing me a little too hard, Mr.
Granthope. I'd be glad to have you call here, sometime, if you care to.
But my psychic powers are quite keen enough already. They rather
frighten me. I want them only explained. As I say, it's embarrassing,
sometimes. I hate to speak of what I feel--it's all so groundless and
it sounds silly."
"You know more, then, than you mention?"
"Oh, much!"
"About me, for instance?"
"Yes. But it's vague and indefinite. It needn't worry you."
"Even though you disapprove?"