"Arthur Benjamin Reeve - The Clairvoyants & other stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reeve Arthur B)

it to Constance, not as if it was of any importance to herself but as if it
would explain better than she could tell what she meant.
Constance read:
MME. CASSANDRA,
THE VEILED PROPHETESS
Born with a double veil, educated in occult mysteries in Egypt and
India. Without asking a question, tells your
name and reads your secret troubles and the remedy. Reads your dreams.
Great questions of life quickly solved.
Failure turned to success, the separated brought together, advice on all
affairs of life, love, marriage, divorce,
business, speculation, and investments. Overcomes all evil influences.
Ever ready to help and advise those with
capital to find a safe and paying investment. No fee until it succeeds.
Could anything be fairer!

THE RETREAT,

--- W. 47th Street.

"Won't you come with me to Madame Cassandra?" asked Mrs. Caswell, as Constance
finished reading. "She always seems to do me so much good."
"Who is Madame Cassandra?" asked Constance, rereading the last part of the
advertisement.
"I suppose you would call her a dream doctor," said Mildred.
It was a new idea to Constance, this of a dream doctor to settle the affairs
of life. Only a moment she hesitated, then she answered simply, "Yes, I'll
go."
"The retreat" was just off Longacre Square among quite a nest of fakers. A
queue of automobiles before the place testified, however, to the prosperity of
Madame Cassandra, as they entered the bronze grilled plate glass door and
turned on the first floor toward the home of the Adept. Constance had an
uncomfortable feeling as they entered of being watched behind the shades of
the apartment. Still, they had no trouble in being admitted, and a soft-voiced
colored attendant welcomed them.
The esoteric flat of Madame Cassandra was darkened except for the electric
lights glowing in amber and rose-colored shades. There were several women
there already. As they entered Constance had noticed a peculiar, dreamy odor.
There did not seem to be any hurry, any such thing as time here, so skilfully
was the place run. There was no noise; the feet sank in half-inch piles of
rugs, and easy-chairs and divans were scattered about.
Once a puff of light smoke appeared, and Constance awoke to the fact that some
were smoking little delicately gold-banded cigarettes. Indeed it was all quite
recherchщ.
Mrs. Caswell took one from a maid. So did Constance, but after a puff or two
managed to put it out and later to secure another which she kept.
Madame Cassandra herself proved to be a tall, slender, pale woman with dark
hair and a magnetic eye, an eye that probably accounted more than anything
else for her success. She was clad in a house gown of purplish silk which
clung tightly to her, and at her throat a diamond pendant sparkled, as well as