JULIAN
(struggling to overcome his embarrassment) It is both wise and brave of you to resume your regular activities so promptly.
WEGRAT
Oh, once you have made up your mind to go on living. ... There is nothing but work that can help you through this sense of being alone—of being left alone.
JULIAN
It seems to me that your grief makes you a little unjust toward—much that is still yours.
WEGRAT
Unjust...? Oh, I didn't mean to. I hope you don't feel hurt, children ...! Felix, you understand me fully, don't you? There is so much, from the very beginning, that draws—that lures—that tears the young ones away from us. We have to struggle to keep our children almost from the very moment they arrive—and the struggle is a pretty hopeless one at that. But that's the way of life: they cannot possibly belong to us. And as far as other people are concerned.... Even our friends come into our lives only as guests who rise from the table when they have eaten, and walk out. Like us, they have their own streets, their own affairs. And it's quite natural it should be so.... Which doesn't prevent us from feeling pleased, Julian—sincerely pleased, when one of them finds his way back to us. Especially if it be one on whom we have put great store throughout life. You may be sure of that, Julian. (They shake hands) And as long as you remain in Vienna, I shall see you here quite often, I trust. It will give me genuine pleasure.
JULIAN
I'll be sure to come.