Then something--whatever it was that
moved the table--had indicated by raps that her name was Daisy and his
Robert, as well as giving them other information, which could not so
easily be verified. Robert had grown quite excited about it, and was
vexed that the seances were interrupted by his wife's expedition to
London. But now how providential that was. She had walked straight from
the dentist into the arms of Princess Popoffski.
It was barely half-past four when Mrs Quantock arrived at the
Princess's flat, in a pleasant quiet side street off Charing Cross
Road. A small dapper little gentleman received her, who explained that
he was the Princess's secretary, and conducted her through several
small rooms into the presence of the Sybil. These rooms, so Mrs
Quantock thrillingly noticed, were dimly lit by oil lamps that stood in
front of shrines containing images of the great spiritual guides from
Moses down to Madame Blavatski, a smell of incense hung about, there
were vases of flowers on the tables, and strange caskets set with
winking stones. In the last of these rooms the Princess was seated, and
for the moment Mrs Quantock hardly recognised her, for she wore a
blue robe, which left her massive arms bare, and up them writhed
serpent-shaped bracelets of many coils. She fixed her eyes on Mrs
Quantock, as if she had never seen her before, and made no sign of
recognition.
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