Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/362

 of a husband, that you did, as soon as ever you had a house and home of your own.—And now we'd got everything so nice and cosy about us; and me and Hedvig was just thinking we'd soon be able to let ourselves go a bit, in the way of both food and clothes.

Hialmar. In the swamp of deceit, yes.

Gina. I wish to goodness that detestable being had never set his foot inside our doors!

Hialmar. And I, too, thought my home such a pleasant one. That was a delusion. Where shall I now find the elasticity of spirit to bring my invention into the world of reality? Perhaps it will die with me; and then it will be your past, Gina, that will have killed it.

Gina. [Nearly crying.] You mustn't say such things, Ekdal. Me, that has only wanted to do the best I could for you, all my days!

Hialmar. I ask you, what becomes of the breadwinner's dream? When I used to lie in there on the sofa and brood over my invention, I had a clear enough presentiment that it would sap my vitality to the last drop. I felt even then that the day when I held the patent in my hand—that day—would bring my—release. And then it was my