I whipped up the cards and fanned them out again. "Put it back into the
deck."
When she had done all this I gave the deck many good shuffles, then fanned
them out-this time face up. "Will you kindly point to your chosen card."
She looked at the cards closely-then carefully looked again and shook her
head.
"It's not there."
"Are you positive?"
"Of course I am."
"Was your chosen card the King of Spades?"
"It was! How did you know that?"
"Because I see that card in the pocket of your skirt."
I reached in and took out the card and handed it to her.
She gasped. "That's my card. You really do magic-and have been hiding it
from me all these years. And I thought you only cheated at cards."
I bowed and accepted her praise. "Magic had to look like magic. But it is
hard work. First there is misdirection, where I see to it that you look only
where I want you to. Then there is forcing-"
"You didn't force me to do anything."
"A technical term, meaning I did this trick in such a way that you took the
card I wanted you to take. Then I watched as you put the card back into the
deck. And marked the card by inserting my little finger next to it. Which
you could not see because I made sure that I only showed you the back of the
deck. Then I removed and palmed the card before I shuffled the deck. It was
in my hand when I placed it into your pocket."
"I never saw it."
"You were never intended to. Then I removed the card from your pocket.
Magic! End of the trick. But to be a stage magician I will have to be able
to do a lot more than manipulate cards. I must now abandon my amateur status
to become an even keener professional."
"A sound idea," she said. "You have certainly worked magic in the past,
cleaning out banks." Then she smiled and clapped her hands with happiness.
"And I shall be your beautiful assistant! All women dream of a career on the
