Ella Rentheim.
Where will you go then? So late, and in the dark, John?
Borkman.
[Putting on his hat.] First of all, I will go out and see to all my buried treasures. Ella Rentheim. [Looking anxiously at him.] John—I don't understand you. Borkman. [With laughter, interrupted by coughing.] Oh, it is not hidden plunder I mean; don't be afraid of that, Ella. [Stopping, and pointing outwards.] Do you see that man there? Who is it? [Vilhelm Foldal, in an old cape, covered with snow, with his hat-brim turned down, and a large umbrella in his hand, advances towards the corner of the house, laboriously stumbling through the snow. He is noticeably lame in his left foot.
Borkman.
Vilhelm! What do you want with me again?
Foldal.
[Looking up.] Good heavens, are you out on the steps, John Gabriel? [Bowing.] And Mrs. Borkman, too, I see.
