Gregers Werle, a childhood friend of Hialmar Ekdal, told his friend
GINA begins to sweep and clean up the studio. Presently the passage door is opened with hesitation, and HIALMAR EKDAL looks in. He has on his overcoat, but not his hat; he is unwashed, and his hair is dishevelled and unkempt. His eyes are dull and heavy.
Gina (standing with the brush in her hand, and looking at him). Oh, there now, Ekdal--so you've come after all?
Hialmar (comes in and answers in a toneless voice). I come only to depart again immediately.
Gina. Yes, yes, I suppose so. But, Lord help us! what a sight you are!
Hialmar. A sight? Gina. And your nice winter coat too! Well, that's done for. (Hialmar fussily pulls out the table−drawer). I must have my books with me. Where are my books?
Gina. Which books?
Hialmar. My scientific books, of course; the technical magazines I require