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“You may go on,” murmured Hasting. “I listen as I write. I have to finish a certain assignment by tomorrow, so I must hurry. But I am listening.”

Manuel, despite the invitation, did not go on with his story. He gazed at the two grotesque, distorted giants that occupied the middle of the studio, and was astounded. Roberto, who noticed Manuel’s stupefaction, asked him, laughing:

“What do you think of it?”

“How should I know. It’s enough to scare anybody. What’s the meaning of those men?”

“The artist calls them The Exploited. He intends them to represent the toilers exhausted by their labour. The theme is hardly apt for Spain.”

Roberto went on with his writing. Manuel removed his glance from the two huge figures and inspected the room. There was nothing sumptuous about it; it was not even comfortable. It struck Manuel that the student’s affairs were not progressing very favourably.

Roberto cast a hurried glance at his watch, dropped his pen, arose, and strode around the room. His elegant appearance contrasted with the wretched furnishings.