Hilda.
You should have tied a knot in your pocket-handkerchief, Mr. Solness.
Solness.
In that case, I should simply have had to go racking my brains to discover what the knot could mean.
Hilda.
Oh yes, I suppose there are trolls of that kind in the world, too.
Solness.
[Rises slowly.] What a good thing it is that you have come to me now.
Hilda.
[Looks deeply into his eyes.] Is it a good thing!
Solness.
For I have been so lonely here. I have been gazing so helplessly at it all. [In a lower voice.] I must tell you—I have begun to be so afraid—so terribly afraid of the younger generation.
Hilda.
[With a little snort of contempt.] Pooh—is the younger generation a thing to be afraid of?
Solness.
It is indeed. And that is why I have locked and barred myself in. [Mysteriously] I tell you the younger generation will one day come and thunder at my door! They will break in upon me!
