Maia.
Yes. There’s not a bit of the artist about him—not the least little bit.
Professor Rubek.
[Smiling.] No, I believe there’s no doubt about that.
Maia.
[Vehemently, without moving.] And so ugly as he is! [Plucks up a tuft of heather and throws it away.] So ugly, so ugly! Isch!
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.