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where the lowering sun shone on the glass.
    —I lived in a house like that before I went on the road, he said. Much bigger than that it was, of course. That was a long time ago.
    —Was it around here?
    —Eh?
    —Was it around here you lived?
    He gave her a pitying look.
    —Naw. It was in another country altogether.
    The suggestion that he came from these parts seemed to offend him deeply. There was a silence, and then he whirled about and said:
    —I can tell fortunes.
    —Can you?
    With his eyes closed he nodded proudly.
    —Yes. Do you want me to tell yours?
    She pushed out her hand. He took her fingers with a sly grin, and the tip of his little red tongue came out and explored the corner of his mouth. Then he wiped away the grin, and with great seriousness he bent over her hand. After a moment he stepped back, and with vaguely troubled eyes he considered the sky.
    —Well? she asked.
    He folded his arms and ruminated deeply, a finger supporting his chin.
    —Well it’s a difficult hand, he said. I’ll tell you that for nothing. You’re waiting for someone.
    She laughed.
    —Yes that’s right, you’re right. My papa is coming to visit me today. How did you know that?
    He seemed a little startled, but he quickly covered it up and said:
    —You haven’t seen him for a long time.
    —I never saw him. He went away after I was born because my mother died.
    —Yes, he said sagely. Yes.
    He clasped his hands behind his back and walked around her in a circle, rolling from side to side on his short bandy legs. At last he stopped and shook his head.
    —No, he sighed. I see nothing else. If I had my cards …
    He looked at the ground, and pulled at his lip with a thumb and forefinger. She waited, and then said in disappointment:
    —Is that all?
    —That’s all. Well I told you, it’s a difficult hand. What do you expect?
    —Can you do any magic?
    —I surely can, he said. Why, that’s my job.
    —Well do a trick for me then.
    —I don’t do tricks, he said archly. I perform feats of magic.
    —All right then, go on, perform a feat of magic. Go on.
    —Take it easy, he said. Take it easy. Just hold on a minute now.
    Once again he struck a pose with arms folded and finger under his chin.
    —Look, he said, and turned up his hands for her to examine. Nothing there, right? Now wait.
    She watched him eagerly. He made fists of his large hands and held them out before him, tightly clenched. He was quite still, concentrating, and suddenly he opened his hands again. In the hollow of each palm there lay a small white object. She stepped forward for a closer look, and cried:
    —Eyes! They’re eyes!
    She reached out to touch them, but he quickly closed his fingers over them.
    —O let me see them again, she begged. Please. Let me touch them.
    He shook his head.
    —Forbidden.
    —O please.
    He grinned delightedly and shoved his fists into his pockets. Out came the tip of his tongue once again.
    —No, he said softly.
    —All right then, keep them, see if I care. I bet you had them up your sleeves. Anyway they’re not real.
    She turned away from him and gave the rear wheel of his bicycle a kick. He pulled the machine away from her and glared at her in outrage.
    —Watch what you’re doing, he threatened.
    He gave her another black look, and with an expert little hop he was in the saddle and away down the hill. She watched him go, biting her lip, and then she galloped after him, crying:
    —Wait! Wait!
    He stopped, and with one foot to the ground he looked back at her. She came up to him, panting, and said:
    —Listen, I’m sorry for kicking your bike.
    He said nothing, and she lowered her eyes and fingered the rubber grip on the handlebar.
    —Would you … she began hesitantly. Would you give me a carry down the road a bit?
    He considered this for a moment, and the sly grin crept over his face.
    —All right, he said, and giggled.
    She pulled herself up and sat on the crossbar, and they bowled away down the road. She