She put on a dress of black lace when the supper-hour drew near. It made her look even paler than her wont, but she gave scarcely a thought to her appearance. Her mind was weighed down by far more serious matters.
Even the prospect of a tête-à-tête with Dr. Capper hardly disquieted her, and when she discovered him on the garden-steps of the parlour she went forward to join him without hesitation.
His greeting of her was full of kindness; there was nothing disconcerting about his attitude.
"I was just thinking about my friend Rafford," he said. "You remember him? And how mad he went over that piece of statuary at Burchester Castle? But, strange to say, it's not the anatomy that interests him any longer. It's the face."
She felt herself colour a little. "If it bears any resemblance to me, it is purely accidental," she said.
"Or rather, a coincidence," amended Capper. "It's a fine piece of work anyway. But he is nothing of a judge. Guess it's just the humanity of the thing that gets him."
"It's rather a painful study," Maud said.
"Ah, but it leaves endless possibilities. That is where the genius of the sculptor displays itself. Rafford saw that. 'The hotter the furnace, the purer the gold,' he said to me; 'if I had the naming of that work I'd call it The Crucible or Seven Times Purified.'"
"What a peculiar point of view!" Maud exclaimed, almost in spite of herself.
Capper assented. "Raff is highly imaginative. He has a very long perspective. A bit of a dreamer too. If it weren't for that, I should prophesy a great future for him. But there's no time for dreaming in this world. You must either hustle through or be content to stand aside. You can't do both."