I meant swans, yes.  And I remember that I fastened a great furry leaf to one of the swans.  It looked like a burdock-leaf—–­

IRENE.

And then it turned into Lohengrin’s boat—­with the swan yoked to it.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

How fond you were of that game, Irene.

IRENE.

We played it over and over again.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Every single Saturday, I believe,—­all the summer through.

IRENE.

You said I was the swan that drew your boat.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Did I say so?  Yes, I daresay I did. [Absorbed in the game.] Just see how the sea-gulls are swimming down the stream!

IRENE.

[Laughing.] And all your ships have run ashore.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Throwing more leaves into the brook.] I have ships enough in reserve. [Follows the leaves with his eyes, throws more into the brook, and says after a pause.] Irene,—­I have bought the little peasant hut beside the Lake of Taunitz.

IRENE.

Have you bought it?  You often said you would, if you could afford it.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

The day came when I could afford it easily enough; and so I bought it.

IRENE.

[With a sidelong look at him.] Then do you live out there now—­in our old house?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

No, I have had it pulled down long ago.  And I have built myself a great, handsome, comfortable villa on the site—­with a park around it.  It is there that we—­ [Stops and corrects himself.] —­there that I usually live during the summer.

IRENE.

[Mastering herself.] So you and—­and the other one live out there now?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[With a touch of defiance.] Yes.  When my wife and I are not travelling—­as we are this year.

IRENE.

[Looking far before her.] Life was beautiful, beautiful by the Lake of Taunitz.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[As though looking back into himself.] And yet, Irene—–­

IRENE.

[Completing his thought.] —­yet we two let slip all that life and its beauty.