“That same evening I was at Eva’s, together with Caille, Lord Elmster, and some Russian artists. She was entrancing, and of a sparkling gaiety that made one feel loth to lose a breath of it. I no longer remember how the conversation happened to turn to sidereal phenomena and solar systems. For a while in the usual light way, the question was considered whether other planets might not be inhabited by men or man-like beings. And Eva said: ‘I have read, and wise men have told me, that Saturn has ten moons and also a ring of glowing fire that surrounds the great star with purple and violet flame. The planet itself, I am told, is still composed of red-hot lava. But on the ten moons there might be life and creatures like ourselves. Imagine the night in those regions--the dark glow of the great mother star, the purple rainbow forever spanning the whole firmament, and the ten moons circling beside and above one another, so near perhaps that those beings can speak and communicate from world to world. What possibilities! What visions of happiness and beauty!’ Such, or nearly such were her words. One of us replied that it was quite as easy to conceive of moon at war with moon, even as here land wars with land, despite the glory of the heavens, and that experience made us fear that nowhere in the universe would the wonders of a sky save restless creatures like ourselves from robbery and violence. But she said: ‘Do not destroy my faith; leave me my Saturnian Paradise.’ “And she knew, she could not but have known, that in that very hour Yaminsky, whom she had loved, was dying an ugly and a murderous death. “It is difficult to have humility.” XIV Christian shared his meals with Michael, and cared for him in brotherly fashion. At night he spread a couch for him with his own hands. He knew how to accustom the boy to his presence; his gift of unobtrusiveness stood him in good stead. In his presence Michael lost the convulsive rigour which not even Johanna’s affectionate considerateness had been able to break. At times he would follow Christian with his eyes. “Why do you look at me?” Christian asked. The boy was silent. “I should like to know what you are thinking,” Christian said. The boy was silent. Again and again he followed Christian with his eyes, and seemed torn between two feelings. On a certain evening he spoke for the first time. “What will happen to me?” he whispered, in a scarcely audible voice. “You should have a little confidence in me,” Christian said, winningly. Michael stared in front of him. “I am afraid,” he said at last. “What are you afraid of?” “Of everything. Of everything in the world. Of people and animals and darkness and light and of myself.” “Have you felt that way long?”