Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 11).djvu/133



[Slowly, looking fixedly at her.] There must always be a dead wall between us two, from this time forth.

Why must there?

Who knows but that a child's great, open eyes are watching us day and night.

[Softly, shuddering.] Alfred—how terrible to think of!

Our love has been like a consuming fire. Now it must be quenched

[With a movement towards him.] Quenched!

[Hardly.] It is quenched—in one of us.

[As if petrified.] And you dare say that to me!

[More gently.] It is dead, Rita. But in what I now feel for you—in our common guilt and need of atonement—I seem to foresee a sort of resurrection