It is always a change.
Well, well, if only it is the right thing for you—
For me? The right thing? There is nothing in the world the matter with me.
[Rises and goes to him.] Yes, there is, Rubek. I am sure you must feel it yourself.
Why my dearest Maia—what should be amiss with me?
[Behind him, bending over the back of his chair.] That you must tell me. You have begun to wander about without a moment's peace. You cannot rest anywhere—neither at home nor abroad. You have become quite misanthropic of late.
[With a touch of sarcasm.] Dear me—have you noticed that?
No one that knows you can help noticing it. And then it seems to me so sad that you have lost all pleasure in your work.
That too, eh?
You that used to be so indefatigable—working from morning to night!