world ever saw. Then I found you. You were what I required in every respect. And you consented so willingly—so gladly. You renounced home and kindred—and went with me.
Irene.
To go with you meant for me the resurrection of my childhood.
Professor Rubek.
That was just why I found in you all that I required—in you and in no one else. I came to look on you as a thing hallowed, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts. In those days I was still young, Irene. And the superstition took hold of me that if I touched you, if I desired you with my senses, my soul would be profaned, so that I should be unable to accomplish what I was striving for.—And I still think there was some truth in that.
Irene.
[Nods with a touch of scorn.] The work of art first—then the human being.
Professor Rubek.
You must judge me as you will; but at that time I was utterly dominated by my great task—and exultantly happy in it.
Irene.
And you achieved your great task, Arnold.
