Ella Rentheim: Look, here he lies, Gunhild.
Mrs. Borkman: Asleep?
Ella Rentheim: A long, deep sleep, I am afraid..
Mrs. Borkman: Ella! (Controls herself and asks quietly.) Was it - deliberate?
Ella Rentheim: No.
Mrs. Borkman: (relieved) Not by his own hand, then?
Ella Rentheim: A hand of iron gripped his heart.
Mrs. Borkman: So the night air killed the man.
Ella Rentheim: So it seems.
Mrs. Borkman: That strong man.
Ella Rentheim: Won't you look at him, Gunhild?
Mrs. Borkman: No, no! (Quietly) John Gabriel Borkman was a miner's son. He couldn't live in fresh air.
Ella Rentheim: I think it was the cold that killed him.
Mrs. Borkman: The cold? That killed him long ago.
Ella Rentheim: And turned us into shadows.