t which happens to be in one's mind
when one is with others has an effect, even if one says or does nothing
to indicate one's preoccupation. A certain amount of this comes from an
unconscious inference on the part of the recipients. We often augur,
without any very definite rational process, from the facial
expressions, gestures, movements, tones of others, what their frame of
mind is. But I believe that there is a great deal more than that. We
must all know that when we are with friends to whose moods and emotions
we are attuned, there takes place a singular degree of
thought-transference, quite apart from speech. I had once a great
friend with whom I was accustomed to spend much time tete-a-tete. We
used to travel together and spend long periods, day after day, in close
conjunction, often indeed sharing the same bedroom. It became a matter
at first of amusement and interest, but afterwards an accepted fact,
that we could often realise, even after a long silence, in what
direction the other's thought was travelling. "How did you guess I was
thinking of that?" would be asked. To which the reply was, "I did not
guess--I knew." On the other hand I have an old and familiar friend,
whom I know well and regard with great affection, but whose presence,
and particularly a certain fixity of glance, often, even now, causes me
a curious subjective disturbance which is not wholly pleasant, a sense
of some odd psychical control which is not entirely agreeable.

I have another friend who is the most delightful and easy company in
the world when we are, alone together; but he is a sensitive and
highly-strung creature, much affected by personal influences, and when
I meet him in the company of other people he is often almost
unrecognisable. His mind becomes critical, combative, acrid; he does
not say what he means, he is touched by a vague excitement, and there
passes over him an unnatural sort of brilliance, of a hard and futile
kind, which makes him sacrifice consideration and friendliness to the
instinctive desire to produce an effect and to score a point. I
sometimes actually detest him when he is one of a circle. I feel
inclined to say to him, "If only you could let your real self appear,
and drop this tiresome posturing and fencing, you would be as
delightful as you are to me when I am alone with you; but this hectic
tittering and feverish jocosity is not only not your real self, but it
gives others an impression of a totally un