another bird
comes with a song of the future. But otherwise--

Leon.--Otherwise it is perhaps better to think that when all threads
will be spun out from the ball, there will remain nothing. Sometimes
the reminiscences are very painful. Happily time dulls their edge, or
they would prick like thorns.

Jadwiga.--Or would burn like fire.

Leon.--All-wise Nature gives us some remedy for it. A fire which is
not replenished must die, and the ashes do not burn.

Jadwiga.--We are unwillingly chasing a bird which has flown away.
Enough of it! Have you painted much lately?

Leon.--I do nothing else. I think and I paint. It is true that until
now my thoughts have produced nothing, and I have painted a very
little. But it was not my fault. Better be good enough to tell me what
has caused you to call me here.

Jadwiga.--It will come by itself. In the first place, I should be
justified in so doing by a desire to see a great man. You are now an
artist whose fame is world-wide.

Leon--I would appear to be guilty of conceit, but I honestly think
that I was not the last pawn on the chessboard in the drawing-room,
and that is perhaps the reason why I have been thinking during the
past two years and could not understand why I was thrown aside like a
common pawn.

Jadwiga.--And where is our agreement?

Leon.--It is a story told in a subjective way by a third person.
According to the second clause in our agreement--"sincerity"--I must
add that I am already accustomed to my wheelbarrow.

Jadwiga.--We must not speak about it.

Leon.--I warn you--it will be difficult.

Jadwiga.--It should be more easy for you. You, the elect of art and
the pride of the whole nation, and in the mean while its spoiled
child--you can live with your whole soul in the present and in the
future. From the flowers strewn under one's feet, one can always chose
the most beautiful, or not choose at all, but always tread upon them.

Leon.--If one does not stumble.

Jadwiga.--No! To advance toward immortality.

Leon.--Longing for death while on the road.

Jadwiga.--It is an excess of pessimism for a man who says that he is
accustomed to his wheelbarrow.

Leon.--I wish only to show the other side of the medal. And then you
must remember, madam, that to-day pessimism is the mode. You must not
take my words too seriously. In a drawing-room one strings the words
of a conversation like beads on a thread--it is only play.

Jadwiga.--Let us play then (afte