"It is not a large house," said the fortune-teller, staring down at
the shining surface of her table. "It is a gay, delightful little
place, ladies--quite my idea of a pretty dwelling. But it is filled with
horror unutterable to Madame. Ah! I entreat you"--she stared sadly at
Sylvia--"to beware of unknown buildings, especially if you persist
in keeping and in wearing your necklace."

"Do tell us, Madame, something more about my friend's necklace. Is it,
for instance, of great value, and is it its value that makes it a source
of danger?"

Anna Wolsky wondered very much what would be the answer to this question.
She had had her doubts as to the genuineness of the pearls her friend
wore. Pearls are so exquisitely imitated nowadays, and these pearls, if
genuine, were of such great value!

At first she had not believed them to be real, then gradually she had
become convinced of Sylvia's good faith. If the pearls were false, Sylvia
did not know it.

But Madame Cagliostra's answer was disappointing--or prudent.

"I cannot tell you that," she said. "I cannot even tell you of what the
necklace is composed. It may be of gold, of silver, of diamonds, of
pearls--it may be, I'm inclined to think it is, composed of Egyptian
scarabei. They, as you know, often bring terrible ill-fortune in their
train, especially when they have been taken from the bodies of mummies.
But the necklace has already caused this lady to quarrel with a very good
and sure friend of hers--of that I am sure. And, as I tell you, I see in
the future that this necklace may cause her very serious trouble--indeed,