concrete, and of all the stubborn energy and desire for domination which
had set and kept the edifice erect.

Thomas was at last obliged to call him. "Let us make haste," said he,
"the twilight will soon be here. We shan't be able to see much."

They had arranged to meet Antoine at Jahan's, as the sculptor wished to
show them a new model he had prepared. When they entered the work-shop
they found the two assistants still working at the colossal angel which
had been ordered for the basilica. Standing on a scaffolding they were
rough-hewing its symmetrical wings, whilst Jahan, seated on a low chair,
with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hands soiled with clay,
was contemplating a figure some three feet high on which he had just been
working.

"Ah! it's you," he exclaimed. "Antoine has been waiting more than half an
hour for you. He's gone outside with Lise to see the sun set over Paris,
I think. But they will soon be back."

Then he relapsed into silence, with his eyes fixed on his work.

This was a bare, erect, lofty female figure, of such august majesty, so
simple were its lines, that it suggested something gigantic. The figure's
abundant, outspread hair suggested rays around its face, which beamed
with sovereign beauty like the sun. And its only gesture was one of offer
and of greeting; its arms were thrown slightly forward, and its hands
were open for the grasp of all mankind.

Still lingering in his dream Jahan began to speak slowly: "You remember
that I wanted a pendant for my figure of Fecundity. I had modelled a