Зима тревоги нашей

           Shelaiditoutfaceupandreshuffledthedeck.Thensheturnedthecardsrapidly,speakinginasingsongvoiceasshedid.Acardontopofmycard—"Thiscoversyou."Crosswiseontop—"Thiscrossesyou."Oneabove—"Thiscrownsyou."Onebelow—"Thisisyourfoundation.Thisbefore,thisbehindyou."Shehadformedacrossofcardsonthetable.Thenrapidlysheturnedupfourinalinetotheleftofthecross,saying,"Yourself,yourhouse,yourhopes,yourfuture."Thelastcardwasthemanhangedupsidedown,lependu,butfromwhereIsatacrossthetablehewasrightsideup.

           "Somuchformyfuture."

           "Itcanmeansalvation,"shesaid.Herforefingertracedthelineofherlowerlip.

           Marydemanded,"Isthemoneythere?"

           "Yes—it’sthere,"shesaidabsently.Andsuddenlyshegatheredthecards,shuffledthemoverandover,andlaidthemoutagain,mutteringherritualunderherbreath.Shedidn’tseemtostudyindividualcardsbuttoseethewholegroupatonce,andhereyesweremistyandremote.

           Agoodtrick,Ithought,akilleratladies’clubs—oranywhereelse.SomustthePythonesshavelooked,coolandcomposedandconfusing.Ifyoucanholdpeopletense,hardlybreathing,expectantforalongtime,they’llbelieveanything—notacting,somuchastechnique,timing.Thiswomanwaswastinghertalentontravelingsalesmen.Butwhatdidshewantofusorofme?Suddenlyshegatheredthecards,pattedthemsquare,andputthemintheredbox,whichsaid:I.Muller&Cie,FabriquedeCartes.