And Malkiel continued to regard him with the
staring eyes of one whose mind is seething with strange, upheaving
thoughts and alarming apprehensions. Mutely the Prophet swelled and
mutely Malkiel observed him swell, till a point was reached from which
further progress--at least on the Prophet's part--was impossible. The
Prophet was now as big as the structure of his frame permitted him to
be, and apparently Malkiel realised the fact, for he suddenly dropped
his eyes and exclaimed,--
"This matter must be threshed out thoroughly, Madame herself would wish
it so."
He paused, drew his chair nearer to the Prophet's, took off a glove and
continued,--
"Sir, you may be a prophet. You may have prophesied correctly in the
Berkeley Square. But if you are, and if you have, remember this--that
you have proved the self-sacrifice, the privation, the denial, the
subterfuge, the _mask_, and the position of Sagittarius Lodge in its own
grounds beside the River Mouse at Crampton St. Peter, N.--N., I said,
sir--totally and entirely unnecessary. I will go further, sir, and I
will say more. You have not only done that. You have also proved the
sacred instinct of a woman, a respectable married woman--such as we
must all reverence--false and deceived.
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