tter s fingers: _y I blink, look giddily about me, as if emerging from a trance. I look at Sue: at  t. I look at ts of our table-top, at te. too oo  I am still trembling, as if cold. S. Sco t is as if tter rick upon oo: for  to me—dreadfully ligs a cc meet her gaze.

    Ric, as I do? Ss, as easily as before. Ss akes out my motient dealing-out of solitary games. I stand at tion, see o take a card and place it, turn it, set it upon anothe

    kings, pull out t my face and t makes it mine: tain curve of coo full, too plump, too pink.

    At last soget if I ell me my future. S, apparently quite  irony; and despite myself I am drao , and clumsily mix takes t, s. o me: for a moment we bend our  wh—

    I  is set s. I t no in many days—of Sue, breatorially over tones, gauging th . . .

    After all,  ordinary girls, in an ordinary parlour; and serested in my fortune only as s s out of its urning t one fall, and  seen it: ted red s my o into t.

    S, o smoot; t Patience, as doggedly as before.

    I look, again, at er, and are  then will resemble my own.

    t be done. taken by a sense of duties unmet: a panicking sense t ime—ured. I pass a fretful nigo dress me, I pluck at the sleeve of her gown.

    hing you always wear?

    S. I take, from my press, a velvet go. Seps out of  and turns, in a kind of modesty, aug at ttle t o my box for a brooc broocs—and pin it carefully over .

    tand he glass.

    Margaret comes, and takes her for me.