The sunrays entered the room, hitting the twelve rare gems in the golden plate and bringing a sudden strange burst of light.
"Magnificent," proclaimed the old man in a soft albeit cracked voice. "It reminds me of Oscar Wilde," he added. "Mere color, unspoiled by meaning and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways. Does it speak to yours, Professor?"
Young was so fascinated with the display of colors that he didn't respond.
"I am so sorry, Herr Kubbler. Quite a light show, isn't it? I am a scientist, Herr Kubbler. Colors have no souls. Colors are objects of nature displaying themselves in different frequencies."
Young doubted he believed in what he just said. The rays reflected off the gems and bounced around the room in a magnificent display. For a moment, the faithless Young thought that God would appear in the room, perhaps to reclaim His breastplate.