'Well,' said Lady Jedburgh, making a little moue as she rose from
the sofa, 'if I am not to be allowed to go on the stage, I must be
allowed to be part of the audience at any rate.'

'Of course; we are all going to be part of the audience,' said Lady
Windermere; 'and now, Mr. Podgers, be sure and tell us something
nice. Lord Arthur is one of my special favourites.'

But when Mr. Podgers saw Lord Arthur's hand he grew curiously pale,
and said nothing. A shudder seemed to pass through him, and his
great bushy eyebrows twitched convulsively, in an odd, irritating
way they had when he was puzzled. Then some huge beads of
perspiration broke out on his yellow forehead, like a poisonous dew,
and his fat fingers grew cold and clammy.

Lord Arthur did not fail to notice these strange signs of agitation,
and, for the first time in his life, he himself felt fear. His
impulse was to rush from the room, but he restrained himself. It
was better to know the worst, whatever it was, than to be left in
this hideous uncertainty.

'I am waiting, Mr. Podgers,' he said.

'We are all waiting,' cried Lady Windermere, in her quick, impatient
manner, but the cheiromantist made no reply.

'I believe Arthur is going on the stage,' said Lady Jedburgh, 'and
that, after your scolding, Mr. Podgers is afraid to tell him so.'