"I can't see," was the reply, "therefore it isn't meant for me to see.
It's for you to choose. I can see them now as plain as I can see you.
You are all three standing where two roads meet. The fair young man is
beckoning to you and pointing to a big house and a motor-car and a
yacht."

"And the other?" said the surprised Miss Dowson.

"He's in knickerbockers," said the other, doubtfully. "What does that
mean? Ah, I see! They've got the broad arrow on them, and he is
pointing to a jail. It's all gone--I can see no more."

She dropped the girl's hand and, drawing her hand across her eyes, sank
back into her chair. Miss Dowson, with trembling fingers, dropped the
half crown into her lap, and, with her head in a whirl, made her way
downstairs.

After such marvels the streets seemed oddly commonplace as she walked
swiftly home. She decided as she went to keep her knowledge to herself,
but inclination on the one hand and Mrs. Dowson on the other got the
better of her resolution. With the exception of a few things in her
past, already known and therefore not worth dwelling upon, the whole of
the interview was disclosed.

"It fair takes your breath away," declared the astounded Mr. Dowson.

"The fair young man is meant for Ben Lippet," said his wife, "and the
dark one is Charlie Foss. It must be. It's no use shutting your eyes to
things."