Georgie left his planchette with Lucia, in case she would consent to sit again to-morrow, and hurried back, it is unnecessary to state, not to his own house, but to Daisy’s. Vittoria was worth two of Abfou, he thought ... that communication about fire and water, that kindness to the suffering, and, hardly less, the keeping of loyalty alive. That made him feel rather guilty, for certainly loyalty to Lucia had flickered somewhat in consequence of her behaviour during the summer. He gave a short account of these remarkable proceedings (omitting the loyalty) to Daisy, who took a superior and scornful attitude. “Vittoria, indeed!” she said, “and Vecchia. Isn’t that Lucia all over, lugging in easy Italian like that? And Pug and the angry old lady. Glorifying herself, I call it. Why, that wasn’t even subconscious: her mind was full of it.” “But how about the fire and water?” asked Georgie. “It does apply to the damp in the Museum and the oil-stoves.” Daisy knew that her position as priestess of Abfou was tottering. It was true that she had not celebrated the mysteries of late, for Riseholme (and she) had got rather tired of Abfou, but it was gall and wormwood to think that Lucia should steal (steal was the word) her invention and bring it out under the patronage of Vittoria as something quite new. “A pure fluke,” said Daisy. “If she’d written mutton and music, you would have found some interpretation for it. Such far-fetched nonsense!” Georgie was getting rather heated. He remembered how when Abfou had written “death” it was held to apply to the mulberry-tree which Daisy believed she had killed by amateur root-pruning, so if it came to talking about far-fetched nonsense, he could have something to say. Besides, the mulberry-tree hadn’t died at all, so that if Abfou meant that he was wrong. But there was no good in indulging in recriminations with Daisy, not only for the sake of peace and quietness, but because Georgie could guess very well all she was feeling. “But she didn’t write about mutton and music,” he observed, “so we needn’t discuss that. Then there was moonlight. I don’t know what that means.” “I should call it moonshine,” said Daisy brightly. “Well, it wrote moonlight,” said Georgie. “Of course there’s the Moonlight Sonata which might have been in Lucia’s mind, but it’s all curious. And I believe Lucia was in a condition of light hypnosis----” “Light fiddlesticks!” said Daisy.... (Why hadn’t she thought of going into a condition of light hypnosis when she was Abfouing? So much more impressive!) “We can all shut our eyes and droop our heads.” “Well, I think it was light hypnosis,” said Georgie firmly. “It was very curious to see. I hope she’ll consent to sit again. She didn’t much want to.” Daisy profoundly hoped that Lucia would not consent to sit again, for she felt Abfouism slipping out of her fingers. In any case, she would instantly resuscitate Abfou, for Vittoria shouldn’t have it all her own way. She got up.