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"
Why
would
she
write
it
in
French
?
"
"
So
Mr
.
Black
wouldn
’
t
know
,
dumb
!
"
"
Doug
,
it
was
just
an
old
watermark
coming
out
when
you
scorched
the
card
.
.
.
"
Tom
saw
Douglas
’
s
face
and
stopped
.
"
Okay
,
don
’
t
look
mad
.
It
was
’
sucker
’
or
whatever
.
But
there
were
other
words
.
.
.
"
"
Mme
.
Tarot
,
it
said
.
Tom
,
I
got
it
now
!
Mme
.
Tarot
’
s
real
,
lived
a
long
time
ago
,
told
fortunes
.
I
saw
her
picture
once
in
the
encyclopedia
.
People
came
from
all
over
Europe
to
see
her
.
Well
,
don
’
t
you
figure
it
now
yourself
?
Think
,
Tom
,
think
!
"
Tom
sat
back
down
on
the
lion
’
s
back
,
looking
along
the
street
to
where
the
arcade
lights
flickered
.
"
That
’
s
not
the
real
Mrs
.
Tarot
?
"
"
Inside
that
glass
box
,
under
all
that
red
and
blue
silk
and
all
that
old
half
-
melted
wax
,
sure
!
Maybe
a
long
time
ago
someone
got
jealous
or
hated
her
and
poured
wax
over
;
j
her
and
kept
her
prisoner
forever
and
she
’
s
passed
down
the
line
from
villain
to
villain
and
wound
up
here
,
centuries
later
,
in
Green
Town
,
Illinois
—
working
for
Indian
-
head
pennies
instead
of
the
crown
heads
of
Europe
!
"
"
Villains
?
Mr
.
Black
?
"
"
Name
’
s
Black
,
shirt
’
s
black
,
pants
’
re
black
,
tie
’
s
black
.
Movie
villains
wear
black
,
don
’
t
they
?
"
