"Do I encourage any one?
All the same," she added defiantly, "I rather like him. It isn't every
one's good fortune to be as smart as you, John Martin. Quick--hurry
up! That's your train--and the guard's about to blow his whistle."
With a vigorous push she hustled her father into the first compartment
they came to, and Shiel sprang in after him as the train moved out of
the station.
An hour later Gladys, looking extremely demure and proper, was rapping
with a daintily gloved hand at the inquiry office in the great stone
lobby of the Modern Sorcery Company's building in Cockspur Street.
"Have you an appointment, madam?" the commissionaire, in a bright blue
uniform, asked.
"No," Gladys replied. "Is it necessary?
"The firm are unusually busy," the man explained, "and unless you have
made an appointment with them some days beforehand, it is doubtful
whether they will be able to see you. However, if you will step into
the waiting room and fill in one of the forms you see on the table, I
will take it to them. Which member of the firm have you come to
consult?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," Gladys said. "I want to have a dream
interpreted."
"Then, that will be Mr. Kelson," the man observed "he does all that
kind of thing--tells dreams, characters, pasts, and reads thoughts.
Mr. Curtis solves all manner of puzzles and tricks; and Mr. Hamar
divines the presence of metals and water. There is a lady in the
waiting-room now, come to have a dream interpreted.
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