- Michael: Where am I going?
- Bridgeman: To the bridge.
- Michael: Where will it take me?
- Bridgeman: [the Bridgeman loses himself, for a moment, in longing. He kneels]
- Bridgeman: To wide warmth... and all around... soft grass and kind breeze. At least... that is what I've imagined.
- Michael: Will my parents find me there?
- Bridgeman: That is a question I cannot answer.