Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/252

 Gregers.

Hialmar has never breathed a word about this. I don't believe he has the faintest suspicion of such a thing.

Werle.

Then where have you got it from? Who can have put such notions in your head?

Gregers.

My poor unhappy mother told me; and that the very last time I saw her.

Werle.

Your mother! I might have known as much! You and she—you always held together. It was she who turned you against me, from the first.

Gregers.

No, it was all that she had to suffer and submit to, until she broke down and came to such a pitiful end.

Werle.

Oh, she had nothing to suffer or submit to; not more than most people, at all events. But there's no getting on with morbid, overstrained creatures—that I have learnt to my cost.—And you could go on nursing such a suspicion—burrowing into all sorts of old rumours and slanders against your own father! I must say, Gregers, I really think that at your age you might find something more useful to do.

Gregers.

Yes, it is high time.

Werle. Then perhaps your mind would be easier than it