Gustav [he laughs]. In sculpture?
[He turns round by the square table and comes to Adolf's right.]
Adolf [hesitating]. Yes.
Gustav. And you believed in it?—in that abstract, obsolete art from the childhood of the world. Do you believe that by means of pure form and three dimensions—no, you don't really—that you can produce an effect on the real spirit of this age of ours, that you can create illusions without color? Without color, I say. Do you believe that?
Adolf [tonelessly]. No.
Gustav. Nor do I.
Adolf. But why did you say you did?
Gustav. You make me pity you.
Adolf. Yes, I am indeed to be pitied. And now I'm bankrupt, absolutely—and the worst of it is I haven't got her any more.
Gustav [with a few steps toward the right]. What good would she be to you? She would be what God above was to me before I became an atheist—a subject on which I could lavish my reverence. You keep your feeling of reverence dark, and let something else grow on top of it—a healthy contempt, for instance.