anything but formal, I think, and I saw at a glance that your case was
exceptional, and that you also were Occult----"

"How d'you mean--occult?" asked the witch. "Do you mean just knowing
magic?"

"A strange mixture," mused Miss Ford self-consciously. It is impossible
to muse aloud without self-consciousness. "A strange and rather
interesting mixture of naïveté and power. The question is--power to what
extent? Miss Watkins, I want you to come to one of my Wednesdays to meet
one or two people who might possibly help you to a job--lecturing, you
know. Lectures on hypnotism or spiritualism, with experiments, are
always popular. You certainly have Power, you only want a little
advertisement to be a real help to many people."

"How d'you mean--advertisement?" asked the witch. "This new
advertisement stunt is one of the problems that tire my head. I am
awfully worried by problems. The world seems to be ruled by posters now.
People look to the hoardings for information about their duty. Why don't
we paste up the ten commandments on all the walls and all the 'buses,
and be done with it?"

"Now listen, Miss Watkins," persisted Miss Ford. "I want you to meet
Bernard Tovey, the painter, and Ivy MacBee, who founded the Aspiration
Club, and Frere, the editor of _I Wonder_, and several other regular
Wednesday friends of mine, all interested in the Occult. It would be a
real opportunity for you."

"I am afraid you will be very angry with me," said the witch presently
in a hollow voice. "If I was occult last night--I'm awfully sorry, but