Sylvia smiled, and gave way.

Like most prosperous people who have not made the money they are able to
spend, Mrs. Bailey did not attach any undue importance to wealth. But she
knew that her friend was not as well off as herself, and therefore she
was always trying to pay a little more of her share than was fair. Thanks
to Madame Wolsky's stronger will, she very seldom succeeded in doing so.

"We might at least ask her to open the window," she said rather
plaintively. It really was dreadfully stuffy!

Madame Cagliostra had gone to a sideboard from which she was taking two
packs of exceedingly dirty, queer-looking cards. They were the famous
Taro cards, but Sylvia did not know that.

When the fortune-teller was asked to open the window, she shook her head
decidedly.

"No, no!" she said. "It would dissipate the influences. I cannot do that!
On the contrary, the curtains should be drawn close, and if the ladies
will permit of it I will light my lamp."

Even as she spoke she was jerking the thick curtains closely together;
she even pinned them across so that no ray of the bright sunlight outside
could penetrate into the room.

For a few moments they were in complete darkness, and Sylvia felt a
queer, eerie sensation of fear, but this soon passed away as the
lamp--the "_Suspension_," as Madame Cagliostra proudly called it--was