Mrs. Linde.  Listen to me, Nora.  You are still very like a child in many things, and I am older than you in many ways and have a little more experience.  Let me tell you this—­you ought to make an end of it with Doctor Rank.

Nora.  What ought I to make an end of?

Mrs. Linde.  Of two things, I think.  Yesterday you talked some nonsense about a rich admirer who was to leave you money—­

Nora.  An admirer who doesn’t exist, unfortunately!  But what then?

Mrs. Linde.  Is Doctor Rank a man of means?

Nora.  Yes, he is.

Mrs. Linde.  And has no one to provide for?

Nora.  No, no one; but—­

Mrs. Linde.  And comes here everyday?

Nora.  Yes, I told you so.

Mrs. Linde.  But how can this well-bred man be so tactless?

Nora.  I don’t understand you at all.

Mrs. Linde.  Don’t prevaricate, Nora.  Do you suppose I don’t guess who lent you the two hundred and fifty pounds?

Nora.  Are you out of your senses?  How can you think of such a thing!  A friend of ours, who comes here everyday!  Do you realise what a horribly painful position that would be?

Mrs. Linde.  Then it really isn’t he?

Nora.  No, certainly not.  It would never have entered into my head for a moment.  Besides, he had no money to lend then; he came into his money afterwards.

Mrs. Linde.  Well, I think that was lucky for you, my dear Nora.

Nora.  No, it would never have come into my head to ask Doctor
Rank.  Although I am quite sure that if I had asked him—­

Mrs. Linde.  But of course you won’t.

Nora.  Of course not.  I have no reason to think it could possibly be necessary.  But I am quite sure that if I told Doctor Rank—­

Mrs. Linde.  Behind your husband’s back?

Nora.  I must make an end of it with the other one, and that will be behind his back too.  I must make an end of it with him.

Mrs. Linde.  Yes, that is what I told you yesterday, but—­

Nora (walking up and down).  A man can put a thing like that straight much easier than a woman—­

Mrs. Linde.  One’s husband, yes.

Nora.  Nonsense! (Standing still.) When you pay off a debt you get your bond back, don’t you?

Mrs. Linde.  Yes, as a matter of course.

Nora.  And can tear it into a hundred thousand pieces, and burn it up—­the nasty dirty paper!

Mrs. Linde (looks hard at her, lays down her sewing and gets up slowly).  Nora, you are concealing something from me.

Nora.  Do I look as if I were?

Mrs. Linde.  Something has happened to you since yesterday morning. 
Nora, what is it?

Nora (going nearer to her).  Christine! (Listens.) Hush! there’s Torvald come home.  Do you mind going in to the children for the present?  Torvald can’t bear to see dressmaking going on.  Let Anne help you.