venture to say as exciting as Mr. Jensen's experience with Miss Manning."
Valeska knew more than to ask further. The Seer usually gave her a hint and let her exert her imagination.
"Don't forget the accident in the subway station at Fourteenth Street. And there's an article in the November number of The Journal of Abnormal Psychology," he added.
He rose, went to the book-shelves that lined three walls of the vast studio, took down the book and the little magazine, and gave them to her with a smile. Then he walked into his laboratory to prepare, for her edification, the arbor Jovis, the arbor Dianæ, and the arbor Saturnæ: the trees of tin, silver, and lead.
He stuck his head out of the door a half-hour later and called over to where Valeska was reading under a lamp, "Your friend Jenson will never marry that girl he's after!"
"Oh, won't he?"
"No; she's going to disappear."
Valeska stared at him in wonder. Her look changed to amazement when he added:
"But he may marry Margaret Manning."
"Why, she is Margaret Manning," she replied, still puzzled.
"No, she isn't," he said, laughing, and shut the door of the laboratory.
The next day Jenson telephoned to the studio. Valeska came back from her conversation with him, leaving the receiver off the hook. "He says he has
