"...just as one," Prince Tabnit had said, "who
understands how to die and come to life again would not be able to
take with him any one who himself did not understand how to
accompany him..."
Some terrifying and exalting sense swept him into a new intimacy of
understanding as he realized glimmeringly what heights and depths
lay about his ceasing to see that car of the guard. Yet, with
Olivia's head upon his arm, all that he theorized in that flash of
time hung hardly beyond the border of his understanding. Indeed, it
seemed to St. George as if almost--almost he could understand, as if
he could pierce the veil and know utterly all the secrets of spirit
and sense that confound. "We shall all know _when we are able to
bear it_," he had once heard another say, and it seemed to him now
that at last he was able to bear it, as if the sense of the
uninterrupted connection between the two worlds was almost a part of
his own consciousness. A moment's deeper thought, a quicker flowing
of the imagination, a little more poignant projecting of himself
above the abyss and he, too, would understand.
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