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.
"I haven't an idea," she said gravely, "I think I must have done it so the fairies wouldn't prick their feet on any new sorrow.

One has to be careful of the fairies' feet." St.George nodded.

It was a charming reason for the left hand to give the right, and he was not deceived.
"Look at him," said St.George, almost reverently, "he looks like a shade of a god that has come back from the other world and found his shrine dishonoured." Some echo of St.George's words reached the old man and he caught at it, smiling.

It was as if he had just been thinking what he spoke.
"There are not enough shrines," he said gently, "but there are far too many gods.

You will find it so." Something in his words stirred St.George strangely.