Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/153

 Helmer.

There! You hear her, Mrs. Linden? She dances her tarantella with wild applause, and well she deserved it, I must say—though there was, perhaps, a little too much nature in her rendering of the idea—more than was, strictly speaking, artistic. But never mind—the point is, she made a great success, a tremendous success. Was I to let her remain after that—to weaken the impression? Not if I know it. I took my sweet little Capri girl—my capricious little Capri girl, I might say—under my arm; a rapid turn round the room, a curtsey to all sides, and—as they say in novels—the lovely apparition vanished! An exit should always be effective, Mrs. Linden; but I can't get Nora to see it. By Jove! it's warm here. [Throws his domino on a chair and opens the door to his room.] What! No light there? Oh, of course. Excuse me    [Goes in and lights candles.

Nora.

[Whispers breathlessly.] Well?

Mrs. Linden.

[Softly.] I've spoken to him.

Nora.

And?

Mrs. Linden.

Nora—you must tell your husband everything

Nora.

[Tonelessly.] I knew it!

Mrs. Linden.

You have nothing to fear from Krogstad; but you must speak out.