the Old Testament people. I don't like the Jews; I don't like pendulous
noses. David, the boy David, is rather an exception; you can think of
him and treat him as a young Greek. Standing forth there on the plain
of battle between the contending armies, rushing forward to let fly his
stone, he looks like a beautiful runner at the Olympic games. After that
I shall skip to the New Testament. I mean to make a Christ."

"You 'll put nothing of the Olympic games into him, I hope," said
Gloriani.

"Oh, I shall make him very different from the Christ of tradition;
more--more"--and Roderick paused a moment to think. This was the first
that Rowland had heard of his Christ.

"More rationalistic, I suppose," suggested Miss Blanchard.

"More idealistic!" cried Roderick. "The perfection of form, you know, to
symbolize the perfection of spirit."

"For a companion piece," said Miss Blanchard, "you ought to make a
Judas."

"Never! I mean never to make anything ugly. The Greeks never made
anything ugly, and I 'm a Hellenist; I 'm not a Hebraist! I have been
thinking lately of making a Cain, but I should never dream of making
him ugly. He should be a very handsome fellow, and he should lift up the
murderous club with the beautiful movement of the fighters in the Greek
friezes who are chopping at their enemies."

"There 's no use trying to be a Greek," said Gloriani. "If Phidias were