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Mrs. Borkman.
It is he.
Ella Rentheim.
[Softly, with suppressed pain.] Borkman? John Gabriel Borkman?
Mrs. Borkman.
He walks up and down like that—backwards and forwards—from morning to night—day out and day in.
Ella Rentheim.
I have heard something of this
Mrs. Borkman.
I daresay. People find plenty to say about us, no doubt.
Ella Rentheim.
Erhart has spoken of it in his letters. He said that his father generally remained by himself—up there—and you alone down here.
Mrs. Borkman.
Yes; that is how it has been, Ella, ever since they let him out, and sent him home to me. All these long eight years.
Ella Rentheim.
I never believed it could really be so. It seemed impossible!
Mrs. Borkman.
[Nods.] It is so; and it can never be otherwise.
