Professor Rubek.
I imaged that which I saw with my eyes around me in the world. I had to include it—I could not help it, Irene. I expanded the plinth—made it wide and spacious. And on it I placed a segment of the curving, bursting earth. And up from the fissures of the soil there now swarm men and women with dimly-suggested animal-faces. Women and men—as I knew them in real life.
Irene.
[In breathless suspense.] But in the middle of the rout there stands the young woman radiant with the joy of light?—Do I not stand so, Arnold?
Professor Rubek.
[Evasively.] Not quite in the middle. I had unfortunately to move that figure a little back. For the sake of the general effect, you understand. Otherwise it would have dominated the whole too much.
Irene.
But the joy in the light still transfigures my face?
Professor Rubek.
Yes, it does, Irene—in a way. A little subdued perhaps—as my altered idea required.
Irene.
[Rising noiselessly.] That design expresses the life you now see, Arnold.
