"You know this lady?" he asked.
"By repute, sir," replied Mr. Sagittarius.
"Who does not?" cried Madame. "She built the 'Prophets' Rest' at
Birchington."
"And the Mediums' Almshouses at Sunnington."
"And the 'Palmists' Retreat' at Millaby Bay."
"And the--"
"I see you know all about her," interposed the Prophet. "Well, she is
giving a reception to-night at Zoological House and I have sworn to be
there. But I shall get home by eleven. You will understand, however,
that I cannot have the pleasure of entertaining Mr. Sagittarius during
the evening under my own roof. I regret this extremely, but you see it
is unavoidable."
To the Prophet's great surprise this lucid explanation was received by
his hearers with a strange silence and a combined meditative, and
even moony, staring which was to him inexplicable. Both Madame and Mr.
Sagittarius seemed suddenly immersed in contemplation. They began, he
thought, to look like Buddhists, or like those devoted persons who,
in the times of the desert monks, remained for long periods posed upon
pillows in sandy wastes musing upon Eternity. At first, as he met their
fixed eyes, he fancied that they were, perhaps, falling into a trance,
but presently the conviction seized him that they must be, on the
contrary, busily thinking out some problem.
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