I want to learn Greek, but they can't
teach me."
"That is too bad."
"When things are put vaguely I always want to know, them--I want to know
why Medusa turned into a gorgon? What was her sin?"
The old man smiled.
"I see," said Halcyone, "you won't tell me, but some day I shall know."
"Yes, some day you shall know," he said.
"They seem such great people, those Greeks; they knew everything--so the
preface of my 'Heroes' says, and I want to learn the things they
knew--mathematics and geometry, rather--and especially logic and
metaphysics, because I want to know the meaning of words and the art of
reasoning, and above everything I want to know about my own thoughts and
soul." "You strange little girl," said the old man. "Have you a soul?"
"I don't know, I have something in there," and Halcyone pointed to her
head--"and it talks to me like another voice, and when I am alone up a
tree away from people, and all is beautiful, it seems to make it tight
round here,--and go from my head into my side," and she placed her lean
brown paw over her heart.
"Yes--you perhaps have a soul," said the old man, and then he added,
half to himself--"What a pity.
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