"
"Planchette would write nothing but a few names," said Georgie,
omitting the fact that Olga's was the most frequent. "I think I shall
drop it."
This was but reasonable, for since Riseholme had some new and absorbing
excitement every few weeks, to say nothing of the current excitement of
daily life, it followed that even the most thrilling pursuits could not
hold the stage for very long. Still, the interest in spiritualism had
died down with the rapidity of the seed on stony ground.
"Even Mrs Quantock seems to have cooled," said Olga. "She and her
husband were here last night, and they looked rather bored when I
suggested table-turning. I wonder if anything has happened to put her
off it?"
"What do you think could have?" asked Georgie with Riseholme alacrity.
"Georgie, do you really believe in the Princess and Pocky?" she asked.
Georgie looked round to see that there was no one within hearing.
"I did at the time," he said, "at least I think I did. But it seems
less likely now. Who was the Princess anyway? Why didn't we ever hear
of her before? I believe Mrs Quantock met her in the train or
something."
"So do I," said Olga. "But not a word. It makes Aunt Jane and Uncle
Jacob completely happy to believe in it all. Their lines of life are
enormous, and they won't die till they're over a hundred. Now go and
see Mrs Lucas, and if she doesn't ask you to lunch you can come back
here.
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