"Well," Lagune reflected. "She is not a medium, certainly. But—why do you ask?"
"Oh! . . . I wondered."
"You noticed her eyes, perhaps. She is the step-daughter of that man Chaffery—a queer character but indisputably mediumistic. It's odd the thing should have struck you. Curiously enough I myself have fancied she might be something of a psychic—judging from her face."
"A what?"
"A psychic—undeveloped of course. I have thought once or twice. Only a little while ago I was speaking to that man Chaffery about her."
"Were you?"
"Yes. He of course would like to see any latent powers developed. But it's a little difficult to begin, you know."
"You mean—she won't?"
"Not at present. She is a good girl, but in this matter she is—timid. There is often a sort of disinclination—a queer sort of feeling—one might almost call it modesty."
"I see," said Lewisham.
"One can override it usually. I don't despair."
"No," said Lewisham shortly. They were at the foot of the staircase now. He hesitated. "You've given me a lot to think about," he said with an attempt at an offhand manner. "The way you talked
