The Man Without a Soul by L. Grant Dodge
Sea St. Beach
22  Hiding
“What about that horoscope you cast?” I said.
“Looking at the stars – Fortune doesn’t care about that. Everybody looks at the stars. But turn over a card or throw a coin and she’s right there in the room with you.”
“So the thing to do,” I said, “is hide.”
“Hiding isn’t so bad. This is a pretty nice place to hide. I have a job, a little house, beaches to walk on. I don’t soar, I don’t crash. I just rise and fall with the tides.”
“Doesn’t that get kind of boring sometimes?”
She was silent for quite a while.
“Yes, Gus,” she said at last, “it does. Just about all the time. But I didn’t notice it so much until you came along.”