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actual vortex。 He went down slowly。 〃My soul is a thin； tenuous
membrane。。。〃
On the terrace stood a knot of distinguished visitors。 There was old
Lord Moleyn； like a caricature of an English milord in a French comic
paper： a long man； with a long nose and long； drooping moustaches and
long teeth of old ivory； and lower down； absurdly； a short covert coat； and
below that long； long legs cased in pearl…grey trouserslegs that bent
unsteadily at the knee and gave a kind of sideways wobble as he walked。
Beside him； short and thick…set； stood Mr。 Callamay； the venerable
conservative statesman； with a face like a Roman bust； and short white
hair。 Young girls didn't much like going for motor drives alone with Mr。
Callamay； and of old Lord Moleyn one wondered why he wasn't living in
gilded exile on the island of Capri among the other distinguished persons
who； for one reason or another； find it impossible to live in England。
They were talking to Anne； laughing； the one profoundly； the other
hootingly。
A black silk balloon towing a black…and…white striped parachute
proved to be old Mrs。 Budge from the big house on the other side of the
valley。 She stood low on the ground； and the spikes of her black…and…
white sunshade menaced the eyes of Priscilla Wimbush； who towered over
hera massive figure dressed in purple and topped with a queenly toque
on which the nodding black plumes recalled the splendours of a first…class
Parisian funeral。
Denis peeped at them discreetly from the window of the morning…
room。 His eyes were suddenly become innocent； childlike； unprejudiced。
They seemed； these people； inconceivably fantastic。 And yet they really
existed； they functioned by themselves； they were conscious； they had
minds。 Moreover； he was like them。 Could one believe it？ But the
evidence of the red notebook was conclusive。
It would have been polite to go and say； 〃How d'you do？〃 But at the
moment Denis did not want to talk； could not have talked。 His soul was a
tenuous； tremulous； pale membrane。 He would keep its sensibility intact
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and virgin as long as he could。 Cautiously he crept out by a side door and
made his way down towards the park。 His soul fluttered as he
approached the noise and movement of the fair。 He paused for a moment
on the brink； then stepped in and was engulfed。
Hundreds of people； each with his own private face and all of them
real； separate； alive： the thought was disquieting。 He paid twopence
and saw the Tatooed Woman； twopence more； the Largest Rat in the World。
From the home of the Rat he emerged just in time to see a hydrogen…filled
balloon break loose for home。 A child howled up after it； but calmly； a
perfect sphere of flushed opal； it mounted； mounted。 Denis followed it
with his eyes until it became lost in the blinding sunlight。 If he could but
send his soul to follow it！。。。
He sighed； stuck his steward's rosette in his buttonhole； and started to
push his way； aimlessly but officially； through the crowd。
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CHAPTER XXVII。
Mr。 Scogan had been accommodated in a little canvas hut。 Dressed
in a black skirt and a red bodice； with a yellow…and…red bandana
handkerchief tied round his black wig； he lookedsharp…nosed； brown；
and wrinkledlike the Bohemian Hag of Frith's Derby Day。 A placard
pinned to the curtain of the doorway announced the presence within the
tent of 〃Sesostris； the Sorceress of Ecbatana。〃 Seated at a table； Mr。
Scogan received his clients in mysterious silence； indicating with a
movement of the finger that they were to sit down opposite him and to
extend their hands for his inspection。 He then examined the palm that
was presented him； using a magnifying glass and a pair of horn spectacles。
He had a terrifying way of shaking his head； frowning and clicking with
his tongue as he looked at the lines。 Sometimes he would whisper； as
though to himself； 〃Terrible； terrible！〃 or 〃God preserve us！〃 sketching out
the sign of the cross as he uttered the words。 The clients who came in
laughing grew suddenly grave； they began to take the witch seriously。
She was a formidable… looking woman； could it be； was it possible； that
there was something in this sort of thing after all？ After all； they thought；
as the hag shook her head over their hands； after all。。。And they waited；
with an uncomfortably beating heart； for the oracle to speak。 After a long
and silent inspection； Mr。 Scogan would suddenly look up and ask； in a
hoarse whisper； some horrifying question； such as； 〃Have you ever been
hit on the head with a hammer by a young man with red hair？〃 When the
answer was in the negative； which it could hardly fail to be； Mr。 Scogan
would nod several times； saying； 〃I was afraid so。 Everything is still to
come； still to come； though it can't be very far off now。〃 Sometimes；
after a long examination； he would just whisper； 〃Where ignorance is bliss；
'tis folly to be wise；〃 and refuse to divulge any details of a future too
appalling to be envisaged without despair。 Sesostris had a success of
horror。 People stood in a queue outside the witch's booth waiting for the
privilege of hearing sentence pronounced upon them。
Denis； in the course of his round； looked with curiosity at this crowd
of suppliants before the shrine of the oracle。 He had a great desire to see
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how Mr。 Scogan played his part。 The canvas booth was a rickety； ill…
made structure。 Between its walls and its sagging roof were long gaping
chinks and crannies。 Denis went to the tea…tent and borrowed a wooden
bench and a small Union Jack。 With these