[MRS. WILTON comes forward into the room. ERHART closes the door behind her. She bows formally to BORKMAN, who returns her bow in silence. A short pause.
MRS. WILTON. [In a subdued but firm voice.] So the word has been spoken— and I suppose you all think I have brought a great calamity upon this house?
MRS. BORKMAN. [Slowly, looking hard at her.] You have crushed the last remnant of interest in life for me. [With an outburst.] But all of this—all this is utterly impossible!
MRS. WILTON.
I can quite understand that it must appear impossible to you,
Mrs. Borkman.
MRS. BORKMAN.
Yes, you can surely see for yourself that it is impossible.
Or what——?
MRS. WILTON. I should rather say that it seems highly improbable. But it's so, none the less.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[Turning.] Are you really in earnest about this, Erhart?
ERHART. This means happiness for me, mother—all the beauty and happiness of life. That is all I can say to you.
MRS. BORKMAN. [Clenching her hands together; to MRS. WILTON.] Oh, how you have cajoled and deluded my unhappy son!
MRS. WILTON.
[Raising her head proudly.] I have done nothing of the sort.