Professor Rubek.
Can't say. No one got out or in; but all the same the train stopped a long, endless time. And at every station I could make out that there were two railway men walking up and down the platform—one with a lantern in his hand—and they said things to each other in the night, low, and toneless, and meaningless.
Maia.
Yes, that is quite true. There are always two men walking up and down, and talking
Professor Rubek.
—of nothing. [Changing to a livelier tone.] But just wait till to-morrow. Then we shall have the great luxurious steamer lying in the harbour. We'll go on board her, and sail all round the coast—northward ho!—right to the polar sea.
Maia.
Yes, but then you will see nothing of the country—and of the people. And that was what you particularly wanted.
Professor Rubek.
[Short and snappishly.] I have seen more than enough.
Maia.
Do you think a sea voyage will be better for you?
Professor Rubek.
It is always a change.
