unexplainable miracle, to
his ordinary equipment of senses a sixth had been added. As easily as,
before that morning, he could look into the face of a fellow-mortal,
he now could look into the workings of that fellow-mortal's mind. The
thought was appalling. It was like living with one's ear to a key-hole.
In his dismay his first idea was to seek medical advice--the best in
London. He turned instantly in the direction of Harley Street. There,
he determined, to the most skilled alienist in town he would explain his
strange plight. For only as a misfortune did the miracle appear to him.
But as he made his way through the streets his pace slackened.

Was he wise, he asked himself, in allowing others to know he possessed
this strange power? Would they not at once treat him as a madman?
Might they not place him under observation, or even deprive him of his
liberty? At the thought he came to an abrupt halt His own definition of
the miracle as a "power" had opened a new line of speculation. If this
strange gift (already he was beginning to consider it more leniently)
were concealed from others, could he not honorably put it to some useful
purpose? For, among the blind, the man with one eye is a god. Was not
he--among all other men the only one able to read the minds of all
other men--a god? Turning into Bruton Street, he paced its quiet length
considering the possibilities that lay within him.

It was apparent that the gift would lead to countless embarrassments.
If it were once known that he possessed it, would not even his friends
avoid him? For how could any one, knowing his most secret thought was at
the mercy of another, be happy in that other's presence? His power would
lead to his social ostracism. Indeed, he could see that his gift might
easily become a curse. He decided not to act hastily, that for the
present he had best give no hint to others of his unique power.

As the idea of possessing this power became more familiar, he regarded
it with less aversion. He began to consider to what advantage he could
place it. He could see that, given the right time and the right man, he
might learn secrets leading to far-reaching results. To a statesman, to
a financier, such a gift as he possessed would make him a ruler of men.
Philip had no desire to be a ruler of men; but he asked himself how
could he bend this gift to serve his own? What he most wished was to
marry Helen Carey; and, to that end, to possess money. So he must