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Foldal.
[Apologetically.] Well, you see, poor child
Borkman.
And can you guess for whom she is playing—among the rest?
Foldal.
No.
Borkman.
For my son.
Foldal.
What?
Borkman.
What do you think of that, Vilhelm? My son is down there in the whirl of the dance this evening. Am I not right in calling it a comedy?
Foldal.
But in that case you may be sure he knows nothing about it.
Borkman.
What does he not know?
Foldal.
You may be sure he doesn't know how he—that man
Borkman.
Do not shrink from his name. I can quite well bear it now.
Foldal.
I'm certain your son doesn't know the circumstances, John Gabriel.
