horror take such hold upon me—nor the grief for the burning of my home. [Wrings her hands.] Oh, Halvard, if I had only had the strength!
Solness.
[Softly, much moved, comes closer.] Aline—you must promise me never to think these thoughts any more.—Promise me that, dear!
Mrs. Solness.
Oh, promise, promise! One can promise anything.
Solness.
[Clenches his hands and crosses the room.] Oh, but this is hopeless, hopeless! Never a ray of sunlight! Not so much as a gleam of brightness to light up our home!
Mrs. Solness.
This is no home, Halvard.
Solness.
Oh no, you may well say that. [Gloomily.] And God knows whether you are not right in saying that it will be no better for us in the new house, either.
Mrs. Solness.
It will never be any better. Just as empty—just as desolate—there as here.
Solness.
[Vehemently.] Why in all the world have we built it then! Can you tell me that?
