You said you would take me up to a high mountain and show me all the glory of the world.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[With a slight start.] Did I promise you that, too?

MAIA.

Me too?  Who else, pray?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Indifferently.] No, no, I only meant did I promise to show you—–?

MAIA.

—­all the glory of the world?  Yes, you did.  And all that glory should be mine, you said.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

That is sort of figure of speech that I was in the habit of using once upon a time.

MAIA.

Only a figure of speech?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Yes, a schoolboy phrase—­the sort of thing I used to say when I wanted to lure the neighbours’ children out to play with me, in the woods and on the mountains.

MAIA.

[Looking hard at him.] Perhaps you only wanted to lure me out to play, as well?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Passing it off as a jest.] Well, has it not been a tolerable amusing game, Maia?

MAIA.

[Coldly.] I did not go with you only to play.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

No, no, I daresay not.

MAIA.

And you never took me up with you to any high mountain, or showed me—–­

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[With irritation.] —­all the glory of the world?  No, I did not.  For, let me tell you something:  you are not really born to be a mountain-climber, little Maia.

MAIA.

[Trying to control herself.] Yet at one time you seemed to think I was.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Four or five years ago, yes. [Stretching himself in his chair.] Four or five years—­it’s a long, long time, Maia.

MAIA.

[Looking at him with a bitter expression.] Has the time seemed so very long to you, Rubek?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

I am beginning now to find it a trifle long. [Yawning.] Now and then, you know.

MAIA.

[Returning to her place.] I shall not bore you any longer.