"It is questionable--questionable," muttered the woman hastily. "Your rival is a formidable one and not easily turned from his purpose. Look at the break in the line yourself." She handed him a magnifying glass. "That means trouble before you achieve your heart's desire." "Can you tell me what my heart's desire is?" asked Vernon after a glance through the glass. "A lovely, wealthy wife and a happy home." "Quite so; but I have a stronger desire." "To do what?" "Ah!" said Vernon sarcastically, "that is for you to say. But my second desire, which is marriage, is contingent on my first being realised." "I see, I see," said Diabella raising her voice, which whistled shrilly like the wind through a crack. "You have to save someone from disgrace before you can marry the girl you love?" "Is the someone a woman or a man?" "A woman, and closely connected with the girl you wish to marry." "Is there any chance of success?" "None! none!" "Then I shall not marry the----" "You may marry, for the line of Venus is strongly marked," interrupted Diabella sharply. "The girl loves you, and may defy the person with whom she is so closely connected." "And my rival also?" Diabella shook her head. "He is too strong for her. He can force her to marry him when he chooses." "Perhaps he may be forced to defend himself," said Vernon incautiously. Diabella looked up quickly. "What's that?" "Never mind. If you can read events you must guess what I mean." "I can only read what is in your hand, and all that a man plans and thinks may not be written there. Still, you will be wise to leave your rival alone, for he is too strong for you." "I don't think so, knowing what I know." "What do you know?" Diabella's metallic voice sounded somewhat nervous, and she dropped Vernon's hand to clasp her own on her lap. "I know," said Vernon, bending closely towards her, "I know that my rival will marry neither Ida Dimsdale nor Lucy Corsoon." Diabella shrank back and gripped the arms of her chair. "The names are not familiar to me," she breathed in a low voice. "Think again. The first name is familiar, surely?" mocked Vernon. "Why should it be?" "Colonel Towton might be able to answer that." Diabella rose suddenly, tall and straight, from her chair and threw out her arms with a repellant gesture. "I do not know the name of Colonel Towton." Vernon rose slowly and measured his distance carefully. "You seem to forget a great deal, madame," he said softly, his fingers itching to tear off the expressionless mask. "I never ask the names of my clients," she mumbled. "How do you know that Colonel Towton was a client of yours? I never told you." "I guessed--that is---- Ah! Help!"