PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Is that why you are so ready to set off with him—­out into the wilds?

MAIA.

[Curtly.] I don’t know. [Turning towards him.] You are ugly, too, Rubek.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Have you only just discovered it?

MAIA.

No, I have seen it for long.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Shrugging his shoulders.] One doesn’t grow younger.  One doesn’t grow younger, Frau Maia.

MAIA.

It’s not that sort of ugliness that I mean at all.  But there has come to be such an expression of fatigue, of utter weariness, in your eyes —­when you deign, once in a while, to cast a glance at me.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Have you noticed that?

MAIA.

[Nods.] Little by little this evil look has come into your eyes.  It seems almost as though you were nursing some dark plot against me.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Indeed? [In a friendly but earnest tone.] Come here and sit beside me, Maia; and let us talk a little.

MAIA.

[Half rising.] Then will you let me sit upon your knee?  As I used to in the early days?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

No, you mustn’t—­people can see us from the hotel. [Moves a little.] But you can sit here on the bench—­at my side.

MAIA.

No, thank you; in that case I’d rather lie here, where I am.  I can hear you quite well here. [Looks inquiringly at him.] Well, what is it you want to say to me?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Begins slowly.] What do you think was my real reason for agreeing to make this tour?

MAIA.

Well—­I remember you declared, among other things, that it was going to do me such a tremendous lot of good.  But—­but—–­

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

But—–?

MAIA.

But now I don’t believe the least little bit that that was the reason—–­

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Then what is your theory about it now?

MAIA.

I think now that it was on account of that pale lady.