To learn if he
suspected where it was that they had met, she searched his face
quickly. She was reassured that of the event he had no real
recollection.
"That's rather difficult, isn't it," she continued lightly,
"when you consider I've been giving exhibitions of mind readings
for the last six weeks on Broadway, and in the homes of people
you probably know?"
"No," Winthrop exclaimed eagerly, "it wasn't in a theatre, and
it wasn't in a private house. It was -- " he shook his head
helplessly, and looked at her for assistance. "You don't know,
do you?"
The girl regarded him steadily. "How should I?" she said. And
then, as though decided upon a course of action of the wisdom of
which she was uncertain, she laughed uneasily.
"But the spirits would know," she said. "I might ask them."
"Do!" cried Winthrop, delightedly. "How much would that be?"
As though to reprove his flippancy, the girl frowned. With a
nervous tremor, which this time seemed genuine enough, she threw
back her head, closed her eyes, and laid her arm across her
forehead.
Winthrop, unobserved, watched her with a smile, partly of
amusement, partly on account of her beauty, of admiration.
"I see -- a court room," said the girl. "It is very mean and
bare. It is somewhere up the State; in a small town. Outside,
there are trees, and the sun is shining, and people are walking
in a public park. Inside, in the prisoner's dock, there is a
girl.
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