"What is that man doing here?" St. George asked in surprise.
[Illustration]
"He is a mad old man, they said," Olivia told him, "down there they
call him Malakh--that means 'salt'--because they said he always
weeps. We had stopped to look at a metallurgist yesterday--he had
some zinc and some metals cut out like flowers, and he was making
them show phosphorescent colours in his little dark alcove. The old
man was watching him and trying to tell him something, but the
metallurgist was rude to him and some boys came by and jostled him
and pushed him about and taunted him--and the metallurgist actually
explained to us that every one did that way to old Malakh. So I
thought he was better off up here," concluded Olivia tranquilly.
St. George was silent. He knew that Olivia was like this, but
everything that proved anew her loveliness of soul caught at his
heart.
"Tell me," he said impulsively, "what made you let him stay last
night, there in the banquet hall?"
She flushed, and shook her head with a deprecatory gesture.
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