Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/112

 Rank.

Yes. Does that frighten you?

Nora.

I think it's an odd expression. Do you expect anything to happen?

Rank.

Something I have long been prepared for; but I didn't think it would come so soon.

Nora.

[Catching at his arm.] What have you discovered? Doctor Rank, you must tell me!

Rank.

[Sitting down by the stove.] I am running down hill. There's no help for it.

Nora.

[Draws a long breath of relief.] It's you?

Rank.

Who else should it be?—Why lie to one's self? I am the most wretched of all my patients, Mrs. Helmer. In these last days I have been auditing my life-account—bankrupt! Perhaps before a month is over, I shall lie rotting in the churchyard.

Nora.

Oh! What an ugly way to talk.

Rank.

The thing itself is so confoundedly ugly, you see. But the worst of it is, so many other ugly things have to be gone through first. There is