Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 9).djvu/130

 Rosmer. Henceforth I can think of nothing but that one question—why?

Rebecca. [Turns and looks at him.] Then it is all over.

Rosmer. Between you and me?

Rebecca. Yes.

Rosmer. It will never be all over between us two. You will never leave Rosmersholm.

Rebecca. [With her hand on the door-handle.] No, perhaps I shall not. But if you ask me again—it is all over.

Rosmer. All over? How?

Rebecca. For then I will go the way that Beata went. Now you know it, Rosmer.

Rosmer. Rebecca?

Rebecca. [In the doorway, nods slowly.] Now you know it. [She goes out.

Rosmer. [Stares, thunderstruck, at the door, and says to himself.] What—is—this?