Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/115

 Nora.

I'm in such a crazy mood to-day.

Rank.

So it seems.

Nora.

[With her hands on his shoulders.] Dear, dear Doctor Rank, death shall not take you away from Torvald and me.

Rank.

Oh, you'll easily get over the loss. The absent are soon forgotten.

Nora.

[Looks at him anxiously.] Do you think so?

Rank.

People make fresh ties, and then

Nora.

Who make fresh ties?

Rank.

You and Helmer will, when I am gone. You yourself are taking time by the forelock, it seems to me. What was that Mrs. Linden doing here yesterday?

Nora.

Oh!—you're surely not jealous of poor Christina?

Rank.

Yes, I am. She will be my successor in this house. When I am out of the way, this woman will perhaps

Nora.

Hush! Not so loud! She's in there.