t he says 'Malakh,' which
is to say 'salt.' And they call him that for his tears. Doubtless
the princess does not understand. Her Highness has a tender heart."

St. George was silent. The incident was trivial, but Olivia had
never seemed so near.

Sometimes in the world of commonplace there comes an extreme hour
which one afterward remembers with "Could that have been I? But
could it have been I who did that?" And one finds it in one's heart
to be certain that it was not one's self, but some one else--some
one very near, some one who is always sharing one's own
consciousness and inexplicably mixing with one's moments. "Perhaps,"
St. George would have said, "there is some such person who is
nearly, but not quite, I myself. And if there is, it was he and not
I who was at that banquet!" It was one of the hours which seem to
have been made with no echo. It was; and then passed into other
ways, and one remembered only a brightness. For example, St. George
listened to what Balator said, and he heard with utmost
understanding, and with the frequent pleasure of wonder, and was now
and then exquisitely amused as one is amused in dreams. But even as
he listened, if he tried to remember the last thing that was said,
and the next to the last thing, he found that these had escaped him;
and as he rose from the table he could not recall ten words that had
been spoken. It was as if the some one very near, who is always
sharing one's consciousness and inexplicably mixing with one's
moments, had taken St. George's part at the banquet while he,
himself, sat there in the role of his own outer consciousness. But
neither he nor that hypothetical "some one else," who was also he,
lost for one instant the heavenly knowledge that Olivia was up there
at the head of the table.

Amory, in spite of diplomatic effort, had not succeeded in imparting
to St. George anything of his talk with Jarvo. Balator was too near,
and the place was somehow too generally attentive to permit a secret
word. So, as they rose from the table, St. George was still in
ignorance of what was toward and knew nothing of either the Ilex
Tower or the possibilities of the morrow. He had only one thought,
and that was to speak with Olivia, to let her know that he was there
on the island, near her, ready to serve her--ah well, chiefly, he
did not disguise from himself, what he wanted was to look at her and
to hear her speak to him. But Amory had depended on the confusion of
t