Gina. Yes, what do you think of that, Ekdal?
Relling. Excuse me—I suppose it isn’t you yourself who brings this stench with you from the mines up there?
Gregers. It would be like you to call what I bring into this house a stench.
Relling (going up to him). Listen, Mr. Werle, junior, I strongly suspect you are still going about with “the claim of the ideal” unabridged in your coat-tail pocket.
Gregers. I carry it in my breast.
Relling. Well, wherever you may have it, I’d not advise you to play the dun here as long as I’m about.
Gregers. And suppose I do all the same?
Relling. Then you fly head-foremost down stairs. Now you know.
Hjalmar (rising). But really, Relling!
Gregers. Yes, just you turn me out——