"Different people must 'do it,' as you put it, in different ways," I said. "Forgive my asking, but are you superstitious?" She broke into rippling laughter. "Superstitious? I?" she exclaimed. "Oh, that's the last thing my enemies would accuse me of being!" I paused, looking hard at her. "And yet," I said seriously, "judging by your eyes, I should say that you are remarkably psychic, and most people who are psychic are superstitious up to a point." I went on looking at her, staring right into her eyes, which she kept set on mine. She did not in the least suspect my identity—I was now positive of that. I had spoken all the time in an assumed voice. "Yes," I said at last, impressively. "Yes what?" she asked quickly; she was not smiling now. "Why do you say 'yes' like that? What does it mean?" Apparently our conversation disturbed some of the players, so I said to her seriously, indicating an alcove at the end of the room: "Let us go over there. I should like to talk to you." She made no demur, and presently we sat together in the alcove, partly concealed by palms and other plants, a small table between us. "Now tell me how you win, and how I am to win," she exclaimed, as soon as we were seated. "I should dearly love to know." I reflected, as I sat looking at her, that she was a consummate actress. I could not doubt that she ran this establishment in connection with Gastrell, yet here she was feigning deep anxiety to discover how she could win. "I don't know your name," I said at last, ignoring her inquiry, "but you are one of the most amazing women, I would say one of the most amazing human beings, I have ever met." "How do you know that—I mean what makes you say it?" she asked quickly, evidently disconcerted at my solemnity and at the impressive way I spoke. "Your aura betrays it," I answered in the same tone. "Every man and woman is surrounded by an aura, but to less than one in ten thousand is the human aura visible. It is visible to me. The human aura betrays, in too many cases, what I would call its 'victim.' Your aura betrays you." I leaned forward across the table until my face was close to hers. Then, still looking straight into her eyes, I said, almost in a whisper: "Shall I tell you what I see? Shall I tell you what your life has been?" She turned suddenly pale. Then, struggling to regain her composure, she said after a brief pause, but in a tone that lacked conviction: "I don't believe a word you say. Who are you? Whom have I the pleasure of speaking to?" "Sir Aubrey Belston," I answered at once. "You may have heard of me. Good God—the things I see!" I pretended to give a little shudder. My acting must have been good, for on the instant she turned almost livid. Again she made a terrific effort to overcome the terror that I could see now possessed her.