In the square of light an old woman groped toward the picture. Her knotted hands were lifted to it.
Close at hand, a camera tucked under his arm, the laboratory assistant stood—on his round, practical face the happy look of successful experiment.
A little distance away the Herr Professor Doctor moved quickly. The one with the rose looked up.
High above them all—on the great easel, struck by a ray of light from the shutter—the Dürer Face of Sorrow—out of its four hundred years—looked forth and waited in the modern world.