Ella Rentheim.
[Coming in front of the bench.] Will you not look at him, Gunhild?
Mrs. Borkman.
[With a gesture of repulsion.] No, no, no. [Lowering her voice.] He was a miner’s son, John Gabriel Borkman. He could not live in the fresh air.
Ella Rentheim.
It was rather the cold that killed him.
Mrs. Borkman.
[Shakes her head.] The cold, you say? The cold—that had killed him long ago.
Ella Rentheim.
[Nodding to her.] Yes—and changed us two into shadows.