Hjalmar. Yes.
Gregers. Not even when you decided to go in for photography?
Hjalmar. Your father said it was no use writing to you about anything.
Gregers (looking straight in front of him). No, no. Perhaps he was right. But tell me, Hjalmar, do you feel satisfied with your position?
Hjalmar (with a sigh). Oh, yes; certainly. I really can’t say I’m not. At first, as you will understand, it all seemed so strange to me to be placed amid such absolutely new surroundings. But, then, everything else was so changed too. The great, overwhelming misfortune with my father—the shame and the scandal, Gregers.
Gregers (moved). Yes, yes, I know.
Hjalmar. I couldn’t dream of going on with my studies, there wasn’t a shilling to spare; on the contrary we were rather in debt; mostly to your father, I fancy.
Gregers. H’m.
Hjalmar. So I thought it best, just with one wrench, you know, to cut myself off from the old conditions and relations. It was your father, principally, who advised me to do this, and as he helped me so much——
Gregers. Did he?