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‘Isn’t it interesting, Prune,’ said Ursula, turning to her
sister, ‘Herr Loerke is doing a great frieze for a factory in
Cologne, for the outside, the street.’
She looked at him, at his thin, brown, nervous hands,
that were prehensile, and somehow like talons, like ‘griffes,’
inhuman.
‘What IN?’ she asked.
‘AUS WAS?’ repeated Ursula.
‘GRANIT,’ he replied.
It had become immediately a laconic series of question
and answer between fellow craftsmen.
‘What is the relief?’ asked Gudrun.
‘Alto relievo.’
‘And at what height?’
It was very interesting to Gudrun to think of his mak-
ing the great granite frieze for a great granite factory in
Cologne. She got from him some notion of the design. It
was a representation of a fair, with peasants and artisans
in an orgy of enjoyment, drunk and absurd in their mod-
ern dress, whirling ridiculously in roundabouts, gaping at
shows, kissing and staggering and rolling in knots, swing-
ing in swing-boats, and firing down shooting galleries, a
frenzy of chaotic motion.
There was a swift discussion of technicalities. Gudrun
was very much impressed.
‘But how wonderful, to have such a factory!’ cried Ur-
sula. ‘Is the whole building fine?’
‘Oh yes,’ he replied. ‘The frieze is part of the whole archi-
tecture. Yes, it is a colossal thing.’

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