The Heart Line: A Drama of San FranciscoBurgess, Gelett
General
The Heart Line: A Drama of San Francisco
Burgess, Gelett
Bohemianism -- Fiction; Fortune-tellers -- Fiction; San Francisco (Calif.) -- Fiction
"If they’s any skeptics here to-night, I hope they’ll go away
satisfied." A number of old ladies nodded emphatically. "Of course,
newspaper men never come on a night like this, when my guides are
strong. Funny what you see when you ain’t got a gun, ain’t it? The next
time I’m half sick and tired out, they’ll be plenty of them here to say
I’m a fake, like our friend here who left so sudden, white as a sheet.
Now, when I was directed to that watch, I was conscious of a spirit
standing beside this gentleman," she pointed at him benevolently,
"influencing me to take it up. It’s a woman, and she must have been
about thirty when she passed out, and remarkably handsome, too. She was
sort of fair-complected, between dark and light. I get a feeling here
in my throat and down here," she touched her breast, lightly, curving
her arm gracefully inward, "as if she went out sudden, like, with heart
disease. Do you know what I mean?"
Mr. Payson had bent forward now. "Yes," he said, "I think I do. Has
she any message for me?"
"Yes, she has; but—well, you see, it ain’t one I’d exactly care to give
in public, and I don’t think you’d want me to, either. If you come up
after the séance is over, I’ll see if I can get it for you. Or you
might do still better to have a private setting and then I’ll have time
to tell you more. She brings me a condition of what you might call
worry or anxiety, as if you had something on your mind."
She turned to a bunch of flowers, and, taking them up, smelled them
thoughtfully, for a while. Mr. Payson settled back in his seat.
As the medium commenced again, Granthope arose with his faint, cynical
smile and walked quietly out. He found Mr. Spoll at the table by the
door.
"Well, I guess he’s on the hook." The palmist buttoned his cape and
lighted a cigarette.
"Trust Gertie for that," said Spoll; "she’ll land him all right, see if
she don’t. Good night!"
Granthope turned up his collar and walked out into the street.
*CHAPTER IV*
*THE PAYSONS*
Mr. Oliver Payson lived on a half-deserted street on the northerly slope
of Russian Hill, in a quarter of the town which, at one time, promised
to become a favored, if not an aristocratic residential district. But
the whim of fashion had fancied in succession Stockton Street, Rincon
Hill, Van Ness Avenue, Nob Hill, and had now settled upon the Western
Addition and the Presidio Heights. The old North Beach, with its
wonderful water and mountain view, nearer the harbor and nearer the
business part of the city, had long been neglected. The few old
families, who in early days settled on this site, still remained; and,
with the opening of new cable-car lines, found themselves, not only
within a short distance of down-town, but at the same time almost as
isolated as if they had dwelt in the country, for this part of the city
is upon none of the main routes—few frequent the locality except upon
some special errand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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