Rank.  It is a loss you would easily recover from.  Those who are gone are soon forgotten.

Nora (looking at him anxiously).  Do you believe that?

Rank.  People form new ties, and then—­

Nora.  Who will form new ties?

Rank.  Both you and Helmer, when I am gone.  You yourself are already on the high road to it, I think.  What did that Mrs. Linde want here last night?

Nora.  Oho!—­you don’t mean to say you are jealous of poor
Christine?

Rank.  Yes, I am.  She will be my successor in this house.  When I am done for, this woman will—­

Nora.  Hush! don’t speak so loud.  She is in that room.

Rank.  Today again.  There, you see.

Nora.  She has only come to sew my dress for me.  Bless my soul, how unreasonable you are! (Sits down on the sofa.) Be nice now, Doctor Rank, and tomorrow you will see how beautifully I shall dance, and you can imagine I am doing it all for you—­and for Torvald too, of course. (Takes various things out of the box.) Doctor Rank, come and sit down here, and I will show you something.

Rank (sitting down).  What is it?

Nora.  Just look at those!

Rank.  Silk stockings.

Nora.  Flesh-coloured.  Aren’t they lovely?  It is so dark here now, but tomorrow—.  No, no, no! you must only look at the feet.  Oh well, you may have leave to look at the legs too.

Rank.  Hm!—­Nora.  Why are you looking so critical?  Don’t you think they will fit me?

Rank.  I have no means of forming an opinion about that.

Nora (looks at him for a moment).  For shame! (Hits him lightly on the ear with the stockings.) That’s to punish you. (Folds them up again.)

Rank.  And what other nice things am I to be allowed to see?

Nora.  Not a single thing more, for being so naughty. (She looks among the things, humming to herself.)

Rank (after a short silence).  When I am sitting here, talking to you as intimately as this, I cannot imagine for a moment what would have become of me if I had never come into this house.

Nora (smiling).  I believe you do feel thoroughly at home with us.

Rank (in a lower voice, looking straight in front of him).  And to be obliged to leave it all—­

Nora.  Nonsense, you are not going to leave it.

Rank (as before).  And not be able to leave behind one the slightest token of one’s gratitude, scarcely even a fleeting regret—­nothing but an empty place which the first comer can fill as well as any other.

Nora.  And if I asked you now for a—?  No!

Rank.  For what?

Nora.  For a big proof of your friendship—­

Rank.  Yes, yes!

Nora.  I mean a tremendously big favour—­

Rank.  Would you really make me so happy for once?

Nora.  Ah, but you don’t know what it is yet.

Rank.  No—­but tell me.