unpleasant manner.

But Miss Greeby was not to be frightened by withering glances, and
merely laughed aloud, showing her white teeth. Her rough merriment and
masculine looks showed Chaldea that, as a rival, she was not to be
feared, so the angry expression on the dark face changed to a wheedling
smile.

"Avali! Avali! The Gorgios lady wants her fortune told."

For the sake of diplomacy Miss Greeby nodded and fished in her pocket.
"I'll give you half a crown to tell it."

"Not me--not me, dear lady. Mother Cockleshell is our great witch."

"Take me to her then," replied the other, and rapidly gathered into her
brain all she could of Chaldea's appearance.

Lambert had painted a very true picture of the girl, although to a
certain extent he had idealized her reckless beauty. Chaldea's looks had
been damaged and roughened by wind and rain, by long tramps, and by
glaring sunshine. Yet she was superlatively handsome with her warm and
swarthy skin, under which the scarlet blood circled freely. To an oval
face, a slightly hooked nose and two vermilion lips, rather full, she
added the glossy black eyes of the true Romany, peaked at the corners.
Her jetty hair descended smoothly from under a red handkerchief down to
her shoulders, and there, at the tips, became tangled and curling. Her
figure was magnificent, and she swayed and swung from the hips with an
easy grace, which reminded the onlookers of a panther's lithe movements.
And there was a good deal of the dangerous beast-of-prey beauty about