Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 10).djvu/324

 Hilda.

Your fault! The fire!

Solness.

All of it; the whole thing. And yet, perhaps—I may not have had anything to do with it.

Hilda.

[Looks at him with a troubled expression.] Oh, Mr. Solness—if you can talk like that, I am afraid you must be—ill, after all.

Solness.

H'm—I don't think I shall ever be of quite sound mind on that point.

Ragnar Brovik cautiously opens the little door in the left-hand corner. Hilda comes forward.

Ragnar.

[When he sees Hilda.] Oh. I beg pardon, Mr. Solness[He makes a movement to withdraw.

Solness.

No, no, don't go. Let us get it over.

Ragnar.

Oh, yes—if only we could.

Solness.

I hear your father is no better?

Ragnar.

Father is fast growing weaker—and therefore I beg and implore you to write a few kind words