FOLDAL. [Shrugging his shoulders.] I haven't made much of a career, you see—there is no denying that.
BORKMAN. [Moving nearer to him, and laying his hand upon his arm.] Do they not know, then, that in your young days you wrote a tragedy?
FOLDAL. Yes, of course they know that. But it doesn't seem to make much impression on them.
BORKMAN. Then they don't understand these things. For your tragedy is good. I am firmly convinced of that.
FOLDAL. [Brightening up.] Yes, don't you think there are some good things in it, John Gabriel? Good God, if I could only manage to get it placed——! [Opens his portfolio, and begins eagerly turning over the contents.] Look here! Just let me show you one or two alterations I have made.
BORKMAN.
Have you it with you?
FOLDAL. Yes, I thought I would bring it. It's so long now since I have read it to you. And I thought perhaps it might amuse you to hear an act or two.
BORKMAN. [Rising, with a negative gesture.] No, no, we will keep that for another time.
FOLDAL.
Well, well, as you please.
[BORKMAN paces up and down the room. FOLDAL puts the
manuscript up again.