"You know a lot of people think there's something in it,"
he said.
"In what?"
"Spiritualism."
"I daresay," said Maggie.
She perceived out of the corner of her eye that Laurie looked at her
suddenly and sharply. For herself, she loathed what little she knew of
the subject, so cordially and completely, that she could hardly have
put it into words. Nine-tenths of it she believed to be fraud--a
matter of wigs and Indian muslin and cross-lights--and the other
tenth, by the most generous estimate, an affair of the dingiest and
foulest of all the backstairs of life. The prophetic outpourings of
Mrs. Stapleton had not altered her opinion.
"Oh! if you feel like that--" went on Laurie.
She turned on him.
"Laurie," she said, "I think it perfectly detestable. I acknowledge I
don't know much about it; but what little I do know is enough, thank
you."
Laurie smiled in a faintly patronizing way.
"Well," he said indulgently, "if you think that, it's not much use
discussing it."
"Indeed it's not," said Maggie, with her nose in the air.
There was not much more to be said; and the sounds of stamping and
whoaing in the stable-yard presently sent the girl indoors in a hurry.
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