Domin. (Rises; crosses to her) Oh, hang the factory. Oh, no, no, you shall see everything, Miss Glory. Indeed you shall. Won’t you sit down? (Takes her to couch R.C. She sits. Offers her cigarette from case at end of sofa. She refuses.)
Helena. Thank you.
Domin. But first would you like to hear the story of the invention?
Helena. Yes, indeed.
Domin. (Crosses to L.C. near desk) It was in the year 1920 that old Rossum, the great physiologist, who was then quite a young scientist, took himself to the distant island for the purpose of studying the ocean fauna. (She is amused.) On this occasion he attempted by chemical synthesis to imitate the living matter known as protoplasm until he suddenly discovered a substance which behaved exactly like living matter although its chemical composition was different. That was in the year 1932, exactly four hundred and forty years after the discovery of America. Whew—
Helena. Do you know that by heart?
Domin. (Takes flowers from desk to her) Yes. You see, physiology is not in my line. Shall I go on?
Helena. (Smelling flowers) Yes, please.
Domin. (Center) And then, Miss Glory, Old Rossum wrote the following among his chemical experiments: “Nature has found only one method of organizing living matter. There is, however, another method, more simple, flexible and rapid which has not yet occurred to Nature at all. This second process by which life can be developed was discovered by me today.” Now imagine him, Miss Glory, writing those wonderful words over some colloidal mess that a dog wouldn’t look at. Imagine him sitting over a test tube and thinking how the whole tree of life would grow from him, how all animals would proceed from it, beginning with some sort of a beetle and ending with a man. A man of different substance from us. Miss Glory, that was a tremendous moment. (Gets box of candy from desk and passes it to her.)
Helena. Well—