Rank.  Why do you laugh at that?  Have you any notion what Society really is?

Nora.  What do I care about tiresome Society?  I am laughing at something quite different, something extremely amusing.  Tell me, Doctor Rank, are all the people who are employed in the Bank dependent on Torvald now?

Rank.  Is that what you find so extremely amusing?

Nora (smiling and humming).  That’s my affair! (Walking about the room.) It’s perfectly glorious to think that we have—­that Torvald has so much power over so many people. (Takes the packet from her pocket.) Doctor Rank, what do you say to a macaroon?

Rank.  What, macaroons?  I thought they were forbidden here.

Nora.  Yes, but these are some Christine gave me.

Mrs. Linde.  What!  I?—­

Nora.  Oh, well, don’t be alarmed!  You couldn’t know that Torvald had forbidden them.  I must tell you that he is afraid they will spoil my teeth.  But, bah!—­once in a way—­That’s so, isn’t it, Doctor Rank?  By your leave! (Puts a macaroon into his mouth.) You must have one too, Christine.  And I shall have one, just a little one—­or at most two. (Walking about.) I am tremendously happy.  There is just one thing in the world now that I should dearly love to do.

Rank.  Well, what is that?

Nora.  It’s something I should dearly love to say, if Torvald could hear me.

Rank.  Well, why can’t you say it?

Nora, No, I daren’t; it’s so shocking.

Mrs. Linde.  Shocking?

Rank.  Well, I should not advise you to say it.  Still, with us you might.  What is it you would so much like to say if Torvald could hear you?

Nora.  I should just love to say—­Well, I’m damned!

Rank.  Are you mad?

Mrs. Linde.  Nora, dear—!

Rank.  Say it, here he is!

Nora (hiding the packet).  Hush!  Hush!  Hush! (HELMER comes out of his room, with his coat over his arm and his hat in his hand.)

Nora.  Well, Torvald dear, have you got rid of him?

Helmer.  Yes, he has just gone.

Nora.  Let me introduce you—­this is Christine, who has come to town.

Helmer.  Christine—?  Excuse me, but I don’t know—­

Nora.  Mrs. Linde, dear; Christine Linde.

Helmer.  Of course.  A school friend of my wife’s, I presume?

Mrs. Linde.  Yes, we have known each other since then.

Nora.  And just think, she has taken a long journey in order to see you.

Helmer.  What do you mean?

Mrs. Linde.  No, really, I—­

Nora.  Christine is tremendously clever at book-keeping, and she is frightfully anxious to work under some clever man, so as to perfect herself—­