The noise and roar of the street could be distinctly heard, but all were so affected that a snatch of dialogue which reached them produced no effect.
"Why can't we go in ?" asked a woman's voice.
"_Aba_, there's a lot of friars and clerks in there," answered a man.

"The sphinx is for them only." "The friars are inquisitive too," said the woman's voice, drawing away.

"They don't want us to know how they're being fooled.

Why, is the head a friar's _querida_ ?" In the midst of a profound silence the American announced in a tone of emotion: "Ladies and gentlemen, with a word I am now going to reanimate the handful of ashes, and you will talk with a being that knows the past, the present, and much of the future!" Here the prestidigitator uttered a soft cry, first mournful, then lively, a medley of sharp sounds like imprecations and hoarse notes like threats, which made Ben-Zayb's hair stand on end.
"_Deremof_!" cried the American.
The curtains on the wall rustled, the lamps burned low, the table creaked.

A feeble groan responded from the interior of the box.