"Haven't you ever tried?"
"Never.... Except when a little while ago I went over to the crystal
and--and tried to find--somebody."
"Did you find--that person?"
"No."
Mrs. Bellmore shook her fat head: "You needn't tell me any more. You
can't ever do yourself any good by crystal gazing--you poor child."
Athalie's head dropped.
"No, it's no use," said the other. "If you go into the business and
play square you can sometimes help others. But I guess the crystal is
mostly fake. Mrs. Del Garmo had one like yours. She admitted to me
that she never saw anything in it until she hypnotised herself. And
she could do that by looking steadily at a brass knob on a bed-post;
and see as much in it as in her crystal."
The fat woman lighted another cigarette and blew a contemplative whiff
toward the crystal: "No: at best the game is a crooked one, even for
the few who have really any occult power."
"Why?" asked the girl, surprised.
"Because they are usually clever, nimble-witted, full of intuition.
Deduction is an instinct with them. And it is very easy to elaborate
from a basis of truth;--it's more than a temptation to intelligence to
complete a story desired and already paid for by a client. Because
almost invariably the client is as stupid as the medium is
intelligent. And, take it from me, it's impossible not to use your
intelligence when a partly finished business deal requires it."
Athalie was silent.
"I'd do it," laughed Mrs. Bellmore.
Athalie said nothing.
"Say, on the level," said the older woman, "do you see a lot that we
others can't see, Miss Greensleeve?"
"I have seen--some things."
"Plenty, too, I'll bet! Oh, it's in your pretty face, in your
eyes!--it's in you, all about you. I'm not much in that line but I can
feel it in the air. Why I felt it as soon as I came into your room, but
I was that stupid--thinking of Mrs. Del Garmo--and never associating it
with you!... Do you do any trance work?"
"No.... I have never cultivated--anything of that sort."
"I know. The really gifted don't cultivate the power as a rule. Only one
now and then, and here and there. The others are pure frauds--almost
every one of them. But--" she looked searchingly at the girl,--"you're
no fraud! Why you're full of it!--full--saturated--alive with--with
vitality--psychical and physical!--You're a glorious thing--half
spiritual, half human--a superb combination of vitality, sacred and
profane!"--She checked herself and turned on the girl almost savagely:
"Who was the fool of a man you were looking for in the crystal?... Very
well; don't tell then. I didn't suppose you would. Only--God help him
for the fool he is--and forgive him for what he has done to you!... And
may I never enter this room again and find you with the tears freshly
scrubbed out of the most honest eyes God ever gave a woman!... Good
night, Miss Greensleeve!"