MRS. BORKMAN. He has no old friends. ELLA RENTHEIM. He had so many--once. MRS. BORKMAN. H'm! He took the best possible way to get rid of them. He was a dear friend to his friends, was John Gabriel. ELLA RENTHEIM. Oh, yes, that is true, Gunhild. MRS. BORKMAN. [Vehemently.] All the same, I call it mean, petty, base, contemptible of them, to think so much of the paltry losses they may have suffered through him. They were only money losses, nothing more. ELLA RENTHEIM. [Not answering her.] So he lives up there quite alone. Absolutely by himself. MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, practically so. They tell me an old clerk or copyist or something comes out to see him now and then. ELLA RENTHEIM. Ah, indeed; no doubt it is a man called Foldal. I know they were friends as young men. MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, I believe they were. But I know nothing about him. He was quite outside our circle--when we had a circle---- ELLA RENTHEIM. So he comes out to see Borkman now? MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, he condescends to. But of course he only comes when it is dark. ELLA RENTHEIM. This Foldal--he was one of those that suffered when the bank failed? MRS. BORKMAN. [Carelessly.] Yes, I believe I heard he had lost some money. But no doubt it was something quite trifling. ELLA RENTHEIM.