"Yes," said the Prophet. "With the Crab."
"What!" cried the blot, in obvious astonishment. "Them instruments must
be wonderful sight-carriers."
"They are," exclaimed the Prophet, with almost mystic enthusiasm.
"Wonderful. I have seen her with the Crab distinctly."
"Ah! well, I told her she ought to keep away from it," continued the
blot.
"Did you?" said the Prophet, with increasing surprise. "But how could
she?"
"Ah! that's just it! She couldn't."
"No, of course not."
"She was drawn right to it."
"She was. It wasn't her fault. It was the Crab's."
"A pity it was dressed."
"What?"
"I say it's a pity 'twas dressed."
"What was dressed?"
"What! why, the Crab!"
"The Crab--dressed!"
"Ay. They're a deal safer not dressed."
"Are they?"
"She knows it too."
"Does she?"
"But there--them women likes a spice of danger. She's in a nice state
now, you bet. Not much sleep for her, I'll lay. Well, I tried to keep
her from it, so you needn't blame me."
"I won't," said the Prophet, feeling completely dazed.
"Well, go'-night. I'm off round the square."
"Good-night," said the Prophet.
Suddenly a blinding flash of light dazzled his eyes.
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