But yet all nights are good--save the night of the heart." St.George went back to the terrace.

For hours he paced the paths of that little upper garden or lay upon the wall among the pungent vines.

But now he forgot the iridescent dark and the companion-sea and the high moon and the king's palace, for it was not these that made the necromancy of the night.

It was permitted him to watch before the threshold while Olivia slept, as lovers had watched in the youth of the world.

Whatever the morrow held, to-night had been added to yesternight.