During a recent publicity outing, Hillary sneaked off 

to visit a fortune teller of some local reputation: 

In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, 

the mystic delivered grave news. As the mystic took 

her reading, she had a struck look on her face, looked up 

and said, "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be 

blunt: Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die 

a violent and horrible death this year." 



Visibly shaken, Hillary stared at the woman's wrinkled face, 

then at the single flickering candle on the table. Looking 

aside for a moment, Hillary then looked back down to her 

wringing hands in her lap. She took a few deep breaths to 

compose herself and consider her question; she just had to know. 



Hillary met the fortune teller's gaze, steadied her voice, and 

asked her question: "Will I be acquitted?"