I have an engagement down in the Great Smoke tomorrow lunchtime. Madame Sosostris, palm reader (or as she prefers a lector d’palma) wishes to make my acquaintance and as she is paying for lunch at the Carrillion (no less) and a day in Lunden is never wasted, I am happy to oblige her. She entertains the curious notion that MacGregor’s description of Skye is in fact a description of the palm of a hand (right or left, she does not say) and moreover the crisis points in the story exactly accord with the Mounts of Venus, Apollo, etcetera and the lines of heart and head. (palmistry is, I should add, hardly my expertise)
I am dubious. For myself, I have always believed that MacGregor’s description of Skye more or less accords with Skye, but I suspect Madame Sosostris’ account will be entertaining. She is American, naturally, so I may have to brush up my Franglais if the conversation is not to come unstuck. Incidentally, I read a fascinating account the other day suggesting that but for a quirk of history the Americans might be speaking English! One doubts it is possible of course. The French accuse them of barbarising the language so what they might have done with English Heaven knows!
Three hours on the railroad, is however a depressing thought to end the day with. Ah well. Perhaps Madame Sosostris will be pretty. A pretty woman and lunch at the Carrillion. One has hopes that part of the day shall be pleasant.