Evje (growing angry again). But do you really mean that you don't feel yourself how shocking such behaviour in an old friend is?
The Editor. "Old friend," "old schoolfellow," "neighbour,"—out with the whole catalogue!
Mrs. Evje. I am sure you don't deserve to be either one or the other! (The EDITOR laughs.) Think what you wrote to-day about Halvdan Rejn, who is dying. A man could only write that who—who—
The Editor. Well?—who?
Mrs. Evje. Who has not an atom of heart.
The Editor. Ha, ha! "The natural affections!"—"family considerations!" Truth, my dear lady, has no family ties; it has no respect even for a "dying man."
Mrs. Evje. Yes, indeed—every decent man has some respect for suffering, and even wicked men are silent in the presence of death!
The Editor. "Sufferer"—"dying man"—"martyr," I suppose! Oh, we know all that old story!
Harald (coming forward). Let me tell you that you are a—person with whom I will not condescend to argue. (Walks away from him.)
The Editor (who has at once crossed the room). This theatrical flaunting of the "dying man" before people's eyes, that a calculating brother has permitted himself, is of course what is really shocking in the whole affair. But I will tear the mask off him.