the superstition which, like a snake, lies hidden in the heart of
every man, stirred vaguely and raised its head.

"Carl--" Emmeline began, and paused.

The woman indubitably did affect me strangely. Hers was a lonely soul,
an unusual mixture of the absolutely conventional and of something
quite else--something bizarre, disturbing, and inexplicable. I was
conscious of a feeling of sympathy for her.

"Well?" I murmured.

"Do you believe in the supernatural?"

"I neither believe nor disbelieve," I replied, "for I have never met
with anything that might be a manifestation of it. But I may say that
I am not a hard and fast materialist." And I added: "Do you believe in
it?"

"Of course," she snapped.

"Then, if you really believe, if it's so serious to you, why do you
make a show of it for triflers?".

"Ah!" she breathed. "Some of them do make me angry. They like to play
at having dealings with the supernatural. But I thought the crystal
would be such a good thing for Sullivan's reception. It is very
important to Sullivan that this should be a great success--our first
large public reception, you know. Sullivan says we must advertise
ourselves."