Hilda.
[Is about to go through the garden to the left with the hand-bag, but stops, turns, and points.] Look at that gentleman coming along the road. I believe it’s Mr. Arnholm.
Boletta.
[Looks in the same direction.] He! [Laughs.] What an absurd idea! To take that middle-aged man for Mr Arnholm.
Wangel.
Wait a bit, child. Upon my life, I believe it’s he!—Yes, I am sure of it!
Boletta.
[Gazing fixedly, in quiet astonishment.] Yes, I do believe it is!
Arnholm, in elegant morning dress, with gold spectacles and a light cane, appears on the road, coming from the left. He looks somewhat over-worked. On seeing the party in the garden, he bows in a friendly way, and comes through the gate.
Wangel.