Now, you will be married in a year or eighteen months." Balsamo
stuck his chin out with the gesture of one who imparts grave news; then
paused reflectively.
"Whom to?"
"Ah! There are two women. One fair, one dark. Which one do you prefer?"
"The dark one," Adam replied in spite of himself.
"Perhaps the fair one has not yet come into your life? No. But she will
do."
"But which shall I marry?"
"Look at that line. No, here! See how indistinct and confused it is.
Your destiny is not yet settled. Frankly, I cannot tell you with
certainty. No one can go in advance of destiny. Ah! Young man, I
sympathize with you."
"Then, really you can't tell me."
"Listen! I might help you. Yes, I might help you."
"How?"
"The others will come to me."
"What others?"
"Your rival. And the woman you love."
"And then?"
"What is not marked on your hand may be very clearly marked on theirs.
Come to me again."
"How do you know they will come? They both said they should not."
"You said you would not. But you are here. Rely on me. They will come. I
might do a great deal for you. Of course it will cost you more.
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