"Here is the real purpose of our interview. I was anxious to let you know as soon as possible. I did not want to leave you disheartened. Oh I did personally take a risk with the President's temper when I mentioned this to him, but...Mind you he did not commit himself, but...here is how things stand: now that you realize how serious it is, if you take a year off, to rest, to think it over-shall we say to grow up?-there might be a chance of our taking you back. Mind you...I cannot promise anything-this is strictly unofficial-it would be most unusual, but in view of your circumstances and of your brilliant record, there might be a very good chance."
Roark smiled. It was not a happy smile, it was not a grateful one. It was a simple, easy smile and it was amused.
"I don't think you understood me," said Roark "what makes you think I want to come back?"
"Eh?"
"I won't be back, I have nothing further to learn here."
"I don't understand you," said the Dean stiffly.
"Is there any point in explaining? It's of no interest to you any longer."
"You will kindly explain yourself."
....
Roark left the room. He walked slowly through the long halls, down the stairs, out to the lawn below. He had met many men such as the Dean; he had never understood them. He only knew their was some important difference between his actions and theirs. It had ceased to disturb him long ago, but he looked for a central theme in buildings and a he looked for a central impulse in men. He knew the source of his actions; he could not discover theirs. He had never learned the process of thinking about other people. But he wondered, at times, what made them such as they were. Thre was an important secret involved somewhere in that question he thought. There was a principle which he must discover.
But he stopped. He saw the sunlight hit of the late afternoon, held still in the moment before it was about to fade, on the grey limestone of a stringcourse running along the brick wall of the Institute building. He forgot men, the Dean and the principle behind the Dean, which he wanted to discover. He thought only of how lovely the stone looked in the fragile light and of what he could of done with that stone.
He thought of a broad sheet of paper, and he saw rising on the paper bare walls of grey limestone with long bands of glass, admitting the glow of the sky into the classrooms. In the corner of the sheet stood a sharp, angular signature - HOWARD ROARK.
__________________________________________________
TB,
Thank you for your participation. It's been fun.
;-)
SDAI-Tech1