Ekdal.
[Does not look up, but makes little bows to both sides as he passes, murmuring.] Beg pardon, come the wrong way. Door locked—door locked. Beg pardon.
[He and Gråberg go out by the back, to the right.
Werle.
[Between his teeth.] That idiot Gråberg!
Gregers.
[Open-mouthed and staring, to Hialmar.] Why surely that wasn’t——!
The Flabby Gentleman.
What’s the matter? Who was it?
Gregers.