[Franz raises an eyebrow, glancing over to Albert. He'll have to ask about it later...]

It doesn't surprise me that dear Albert befriended a poet. He's always had his head in the clouds. [It's an affectionate criticism, though, in spite of the heartache his nature has caused.]

What do you occupy yourself with?

[A pause.] I'm sorry, that's probably a strange thing to ask when we've all been trapped here.