No, much better come up with me to the mountain—away, clean away, from the trail and taint of men. You cant' think what that means for me. But such a little lady—
[He stops.
[The SISTER OF MERCY comes out of the pavilion and goes into
the hotel.
[Following her with his eyes.] Just look at her, do! That night-crow there!—Who is it that's to be buried?
I have not heard of any one—
Well, there's some one on the point of giving up the ghost, then—in on corner or another.—People that are sickly and rickety should have the goodness to see about getting themselves buried—the sooner the better.
Have you ever been ill yourself, Mr. Ulfheim.
Never. If I had, I shouldn't be here.—But my nearest friends—they have been ill, poor things.
And what did you do for your nearest friends?
Shot them, of course.
[Looking at him.] Shot them?