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Nora.
I'm in such a crazy mood to-day.
Rank.
So it seems.
Nora.
[With her hands on his shoulders.] Dear, dear Doctor Rank, death shall not take you away from Torvald and me.
Rank.
Oh, you'll easily get over the loss. The absent are soon forgotten.
Nora.
[Looks at him anxiously.] Do you think so?
Rank.
People make fresh ties, and then
Nora.
Who make fresh ties?
Rank.
You and Helmer will, when I am gone. You yourself are taking time by the forelock, it seems to me. What was that Mrs. Linden doing here yesterday?
Nora.
Oh!—you're surely not jealous of poor Christina?
Rank.
Yes, I am. She will be my successor in this house. When I am out of the way, this woman will perhaps
Nora.
Hush! Not so loud! She's in there.
