But its timbers are sound, and that is well, for it looks to me as if the sails of Madame's boat would mingle, at any rate for a time with this battered craft." "I don't understand what she means," said Sylvia, in a whisper.

"Do ask her to explain, Anna!" "My friend asks you to drop metaphor," said the older woman, drily.
The soothsayer fixed her bright, beady little eyes on Sylvia's flushed face.
"Well," she said deliberately, "I see you falling in love, and I also see that falling in love is quite a new experience.

It burns, it scorches you, does love, Madame.

And for awhile you do not know what it means, for love has never yet touched you with his red-hot finger." "How absurd!" thought Sylvia to herself.

"She actually takes me for a young girl! What ridiculous mistakes fortune-tellers do make, to be sure!" "-- But you cannot escape love," went on Madame Cagliostra, eagerly.