than we, for she came toward us with calm deliberation and asked, with perfect courtesy: — Will you permit me, gentlemen, to sit with you? I shall not be a burden upon you.
In the twinkling of an eye we made ample room for her! And Gibran began speaking to her in English... which she knew well... but she soon turned toward me, asking whether I too was proficient in English — I answered no. It is only proper, then, she said, that we should all speak the language of the country — the French language. And she asked us about our own language — we said: — Arabic!... She said: — Would that I might manage to study it. The learning of Oriental languages lies within the circle of my specialty...
The waitress came bearing the plate of hors-d'oeuvres and inquired of Miss Olga what dishes she might wish — she looked at the plates before us and answered: — Dishes like these: roast beef... rabbit stew... and Russian salad —
And she set about explaining to her how the Russian salad should be prepared, but Georgette assured her of her ability in the matter, and before withdrawing counseled her in a whisper: Look after yourself now; do not let 'two' get the better of you — you are not a 'poor thing' yet... and two are less dangerous than one! Thus has experience schooled the daughters of Paris... You may be sure of it!
We began to widen our acquaintance as we ate at leisure: — Miss Olga: from the city of Tomsk — Siberia — a journey of fifteen days by train to Paris — come to pursue her higher studies in philology, French literature, and
music, so that she might afterward direct these branches at the University of Tomsk, where her father holds the post of director.
— And Gibran: from Lebanon. He emigrated with his mother, his sisters, and his brother to the United States. Divine Providence helped him to come to Paris to perfect the art of painting and to train himself in writing... And he has things to say to people. And he finds a great delight in writing and in drawing...
He said this in English, and a question mark was traced in Miss Olga's eyes... She turned her gaze toward me...
— I too was born in a little village lost in the mountains of Lebanon, and I came to Paris by way of Rome so that I might join together... as it pleases me... the arts of painting and sculpture... the science of the stars... and life...
Miss Olga interrupted me in a serious tone: — That is something vague, sir. It is essential that a person have a clear aim in life, which he pursues with energy... Show me your palm!
I 'swallowed' the remark and held out my
