Suddenly she looked eagerly round the room, and said, in her clear contralto voice, 'Where is my cheiromantist?'.
'Your what, Gladys?' exclaimed the Duchess, giving an involuntary start.
'My cheiromantist, Duchess; I can't live without him at present.
'Dear Gladys! you are always so original,' murmured the Duchess, trying to remember what a cheiromantist really was, and hoping it was not the same as a cheiropodist.
'He comes to see my hand twice a week regularly,' continued Lady Windermere, 'and is most interesting about it.'
'Good heavens!' said the Duchess to herself 'he is a sort of cheiropodist after all. How very dreadful. I hope he is a foreigner at any rate. It wouldn't be quite so bad then.'
'I must certainly introduce him to you.'
