Berent. I don't think Mr. Tjaelde seems to me to be looking in quite as good form as I expected?
Jakobsen. Don't you? I didn't notice anything.
Berent. Perhaps I am mistaken. I think he meant us to follow him in, didn't he?
Jakobsen. So I understood.
Berent. Then, as you have brought me so far, you must take me in to Mrs. Tjaelde.
Jakobsen. I am quite at your service, sir. I have the deepest respect for Mrs. Tjaelde—(hurriedly)—and of course for Mr. Tjaelde too. Of course.
Berent. Yes. Well, let us go in.
Jakobsen. Let us go in. (He tries anxiously to keep in step with BERENT'S peculiar walk, but finds it difficult.)
Berent. I think you had better not try. My step suits very few.
Jakobsen. Oh, I shall manage—! (They go out to the left. SANNAES comes hurriedly in from the right, and crosses the stage; looks around; then comes across to the foreground and leans with his back against a tree. VALBORG comes in a moment later, comes forward, sees him, and laughs.)