“Yes,” said Madame Cagliostra, “that I can promise you.”  But there was no smile on her pale face.  “And more, I can predict—­if you will only follow my advice, if you do not leave Paris for, say”—­she hesitated a moment, as if making a silent calculation—­“twelve weeks, I can predict you, if not so happy a life, then a long life and a fairly merry one.  Will you take my advice, Madame?” she went on, almost threateningly.  “Believe me, I do not often offer advice to my clients.  It is not my business to do so.  But I should have been a wicked woman had I not done so this time.  That is why I called you back.”

“Is it because of something you have seen in the cards that you tender us this advice?” asked Anna curiously.

But Madame Cagliostra again looked strangely frightened.

“No, no!” she said hastily.  “I repeat that the cards told me nothing.  The cards were a blank.  I could see nothing in them.  But, of course, we do not only tell fortunes by cards”—­she spoke very quickly and rather confusedly.  “There is such a thing as a premonition.”

She waited a moment, and then, in a business-like tone, added, “And now I leave the question of the fee to the generosity of these ladies!”

Madame Wolsky smiled a little grimly, and pulled out a twenty-franc piece.

The woman bowed, and murmured her thanks.

When they were out again into the roughly paved little street, Anna suddenly began to laugh.

“Now, isn’t that a typical Frenchwoman?  She really did feel ill, she really saw nothing in my cards, and, being an honest woman, she did not feel that she could ask us to pay!  Then, when we had gone away, leaving only five francs, her thrift got the better of her honesty; she felt she had thrown away ten good francs!  She therefore called us back, and gave us what she took to be very excellent advice.  You see, I had told her that I am a gambler.  She knows, as we all know, that to play for money is a foolish thing to do.  She is aware that in Paris it is not very easy for a stranger to obtain admittance—­especially if that stranger be a respectable woman—­to a gambling club.  She therefore said to herself, ‘I will give this lady far more than ten francs’ worth of advice.  I will tell her not to go away!  As long as she remains in Paris she cannot lose her money.  If she goes to Dieppe, Trouville, any place where there is a Casino, she will lose her money.  Therefore I am giving her invaluable advice—­worth far more than the ten francs which she ought to be made to give me, and which she shall be made to give me!’”

“I suppose you are right,” said Sylvia thoughtfully.  “And yet—­and yet—­she certainly spoke very seriously, did she not, Anna?  She seemed quite honestly—­in fact, terribly afraid that we should go away together.”

“But there is no idea of our going away together,” said Madame Wolsky, rather crossly.  “I only wish there were!  You are going on to Switzerland to join your friends, and as for me, in spite of Madame Cagliostra’s mysterious predictions, I shall, of course, go to some place—­I think it will be Dieppe (I like the Dieppe Casino the best)—­where I can play.  And the memory of you, my dear little English friend, will be my mascot.  You heard her say that I should be fortunate—­that I should have an extraordinary run of good fortune?”