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Page 49
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 recherche.
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 other brilliants on her long,
slender fingers.
She met Mildred and Constance with outstretched hands.
"So glad to see you, my dears," purred Madame, leading the way into
an inner sanctum.
Mrs. Caswell had seated herself with the air of one who worshiped at
the shrine, while Constance gazed about curiously.
"Madame," she began a little tremulously, "I have had another of
those dreadful dreams."
"You poor dear soul," soothed Madame, stroking her hand. "Tell me of
it--all."
Quickly Mrs. Caswell poured forth her story as she had already told
it to Constance.
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