Hella. Then you can see more clearly today, what you wish to do and what is necessary?
Paul. Much more clearly, Hella! As I trotted along in the snowstorm, many things dawned upon me. My head has became clear, Hella.
Hella. I am glad for you and both of us!
Paul (seizes her hand). Yes, for both of us. We must come to an agreement, Hella!
Hella (cautiously). I hope we are agreed. And, moreover, you know how we can remain so!
Paul (thoughtful again). Well, as I rode along, strange! So many years of desk work, I thought to myself, and nothing but desk work. My bones have almost become stiff as a result and, after all, what has come of it? Little enough! You surely must admit that.
Hella (seriously). I can not admit that, Paul.
Paul. But we do live in a continual turmoil, Hella, in an everlasting struggle the outcome of which we can not foresee and from which we shall reap no rewards. We are working for strangers, are sacrificing our best years and have forgotten to consider ourselves. Do you suppose they will thank us some day when we are down and out? Not a soul!
Hella. Nor do I demand gratitude and recognition. I do what I have recognized to be correct; that constitutes my happiness.
Paul. But not mine. I want more, Hella! I am at an age when fine words no longer avail me. And see, here is a world in which I have what I need, what I am seeking, here at last I can follow myself up, can see what is really in me and not what has merely been imposed upon me. I am on the crest of my life, Hella. Possibly past it. Do not take it amiss! I need rest, composure ...