"Which is it to be?"
"Mr. Sagittarius!" exclaimed the Prophet.
"Very well," said Madame. "Let mine be the weary task to wait and
watch at home. _Fata feminus_. The mystery of the dressed Crab must be
unveiled. Should this mysterious visitant again vouchsafe a prophetic
message, a practical prophet must be at hand to receive it. Jupiter,
this gentleman is not practical. This report"--she struck the paper
on which the Prophet had dotted down his notes--"is badly written.
The cycloidal curve might have been made by a Board School child. The
deductions drawn--_deductio ad absurdibus_--reveal no talent, none of
the prophetic _feu de joie_ at all. But this mystery of the dressed Crab
may mean much. Jupiter, you will accompany this gentleman back to London
and you will assist him practically at the telescope to-night."
"Very well, my love. I will risk the personal danger, for your and the
children's--"
"But--but really--" began the Prophet. "I am very sorry, but--"
"Madame has spoken, sir," said Mr. Sagittarius, very solemnly.
"I know she has. But--yes, I know there are no buts in your dictionary,
Madame, I know there aren't--but I have an engagement to-night that I
have sworn--"
"What engagement, sir?" said Mr.
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