PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looks doubtfully at her.] Did I say “episode”?  It is not a word I am in the habit of using.

IRENE.

You said “episode.”

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[With assumed cheerfulness.] Well, well—­after all, it was in reality an episode.

IRENE.

[Curtly.] At that word I left you.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

You take everything so painfully to heart, Irene.

IRENE.

[Drawing her hand over her forehead.] Perhaps you are right.  Let us shake off all the hard things that go to the heart. [Plucks off the leaves of a mountain rose and strews them on the brook.] Look there, Arnold.  There are our birds swimming.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

What birds are they?

IRENE.

Can you not see?  Of course they are flamingoes.  Are they not rose-red?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Flamingoes do not swim.  They only wade.

IRENE.

Then they are not flamingoes.  They are sea-gulls.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

They may be sea-gulls with red bills, yes. [Plucks broad green leaves and throws them into the brook.] Now I send out my ships after them.

IRENE.

But there must be no harpoon-men on board.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

No, there shall be no harpoon-men. [Smiles to her.] Can you remember the summer when we used to sit like this outside the little peasant hut on the Lake of Taunitz?

IRENE.

[Nods.] On Saturday evenings, yes,—­when we had finished our week’s work—–­

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

—­And taken the train out to the lake—­to stay there over Sunday—–­

IRENE.

[With an evil gleam of hatred in her eyes.] It was an episode, Arnold.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[As if not hearing.] Then, too, you used to set birds swimming in the brook.  They were water-lilies which you—–­

IRENE.

They were white swans.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.