Joe. What will it be?
Lydia. How can I know now? How should I want to know?
[Joe looks over his shoulder toward the rear door of the room.]
Lydia [nervously]. What do you see?
Joe. Nothing—nothing.
Lydia. Then please stop looking at it.
Joe [meeting her eyes for the fraction of a moment and then holding up the sheet of paper.] I am actually getting some form into this column. If I could only learn to design beautiful buildings—
[He puts his hand to his side in sudden pain.]
Lydia [not noting his action]. Why, of course you will some day.
Joe. I don't know. Sometimes I'm afraid I won't get the chance.