only one condition in which she would mention your
business. If you were at a crossroads--if great danger or great
deliverance hung on your decision--she might sense that. I think they
must get it, by some process to which we are blind, from other
disembodied spirits."

"Suppose, then, that--Martha I think you call her--had brought some old
business associate. Would he have answered me?"

"Perhaps. But that does not really explain what is in your mind. If
this business matter which perplexes you were so vital, don't you
suppose that some one of those very associates would have rushed to
speak, instead of a dead love? In that way, I think I can construct an
answer--provided you ask that question in good faith. It is, probably,
not very important whether you sell or no."

Mrs. Markham rose on this. Norcross caught the hint in her manner, and
rose with her. A little "oh!" escaped her, and her face lighted.

"I know who you are, now!" she said. "You are Robert H. Norcross of the
Norcross lines!"

Norcross started.

"Please do not think I got _that_ by any supernormal means!" she added
quickly. "I mention it only to be frank with you. From the moment I saw
you, I was perplexed by a memory and a resemblance. Then, too, I caught
the air of big things about you. That attitude which you have just
taken solved it all. It is the counterpart of your photograph in last
Sunday's _Times_--the full-page snap shot. I must be frank with you or
you will not believe me."

The mustache of Norcross raised just a trifle, and his eyes glittered.

"Passing over what I may think of your revelations," he said, "you're a
remarkable woman."

"If you're coming again," said Mrs. Markham, "perhaps you'd better not
delve into my personality. It interferes. Understand, I'm really
flattered to have a man like you take notice of this work. That's why I
ask that your notice shan't be personal. At least not yet."

"Since this is a--a--professional relation, may I ask how much I owe
you?"

"My price is twenty-five dollars a sitting--for those who can afford
it."

Norcross drew out his wallet, handed Mrs. Markham three bills. Without
looking at them, she dropped them on the table beside her. "You see,"
she went on as though her mind were still following their discussion,
"I don't like to talk much with my--patients. I never can know when I
may unconsciously steal from what they tell me."

At the entrance, Norcross hesitated, as though hoping