Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/421

 shake off this frightful doubt—perhaps Hedvig has never really and honestly loved me.

Gregers.

What would you say if she were to give you a proof of her love? [Listens.] What's that? I thought I heard the wild duck?

Hialmar.

It's the wild duck quacking. Father's in the garret.

Gregers.

Is he? [His face lights up with joy.] I say you may yet have proof that your poor misunderstood Hedvig loves you!

Hialmar.

Oh, what proof can she give me? I dare not believe in any assurances from that quarter.

Gregers.

Hedvig does not know what deceit means.

Hialmar.

Oh Gregers, that is just what I cannot be sure of. Who knows what Gina and that Mrs. Sörby may many a time have sat here whispering and tattling about? And Hedvig usually has her ears open, I can tell you. Perhaps the deed of gift was not such a surprise to her, after all. In fact, I'm not sure but that I noticed something of the sort.

Gregers.

What spirit is this that has taken possession of you?