[_Voicelessly._] None--not even a postcard! Oh, Torvald, don"t, please, go and look--_promise_ me you won"t! I do _a.s.sure_ you there isn"t a letter! And I"ve forgotten the Tarantella you taught me--do let"s run over it. I"m so afraid of breaking down--promise me not to look at the letter-box. I can"t dance unless you do.

HELMER.

[_Standing still, on his way to the letter-box._] I am a man of strict business habits, and some powers of observation; my little squirrel"s a.s.surances that there is nothing in the box, combined with her obvious anxiety that I should not go and see for myself, satisfy me that it is indeed empty, in spite of the fact that I have not invariably found her a strictly truthful little d.i.c.ky-bird. There--there. [_Sits down to piano._] Bang away on your tambourine, little squirrel--dance away, my own lark!

NORA.

[_Dancing, with a long gay shawl._] Just _won"t_ the little squirrel!

Faster--faster! Oh, I _do_ feel so gay! We will have some champagne for dinner, _won"t_ we, Torvald?

[_Dances with more and more abandonment._

HELMER.

[_After addressing frequent remarks in correction._] Come, come--not this awful wildness! I don"t like to see _quite_ such a larky little lark as this.... Really it is time you stopped!

NORA.

[_Her hair coming down as she dances more wildly still, and swings the tambourine._] I can"t.... I can"t! [_To herself, as she dances._]

I"ve only thirty-one hours left to be a bird in; and after that--[_shuddering_]--after _that_, Krogstad will let the cat out of the bag!

[_Curtain._

* * * * *

ACT THIRD

_The same room_--_except that the sofa has been slightly moved, and one of the j.a.panese cotton-wool frogs has fallen into the fire-place_. MRS.

LINDEN _sits and reads a book_--_but without understanding a single line_.

MRS. LINDEN.

[_Laying down her book, as a light tread is heard outside_.] Here he is at last! [KROGSTAD _comes in, and stands in the doorway._] Mr. Krogstad, I have given you a secret _rendezvous_ in this room, because it belongs to my employer, Mr. Helmer, who has lately discharged you. The etiquette of Norway permits these slight freedoms on the part of a female cashier.

KROGSTAD.

It does. Are we alone? [NORA _is heard overhead dancing the Tarantella_.] Yes, I hear Mrs. Helmer"s fairy footfall above. She dances the Tarantella now--by-and-by she will dance to another tune! [_Changing his tone._] I don"t exactly know why you should wish to have this interview--after jilting me as you did, long ago, though?

MRS. LINDEN.

Don"t you? _I_ do. I am a widow--a Norwegian widow. And it has occurred to me that there may be a n.o.bler side to your nature somewhere--though you have not precisely the best of reputations.

KROGSTAD.

Right. I am a forger, and a money-lender; I am on the staff of the Norwegian _Punch_--a most scurrilous paper. More, I have been blackmailing Mrs. Helmer by trading on her fears, like a low cowardly cur. But, in spite of all that--[_clasping his hands_]--there are the makings of a fine man about me _yet_, Christina!

MRS. LINDEN.

I believe you--at least, I"ll chance it. I want some one to care for, and I"ll marry you.

KROGSTAD.

[_Suspiciously._] On condition, I suppose, that I suppress the letter denouncing Mrs. Helmer?

MRS. LINDEN.

How can you think so? I am her dearest friend; but I can still see her faults, and it is my firm opinion that a sharp lesson will do her all the good in the world. She is _much_ too comfortable. So leave the letter in the box, and come home with me.

KROGSTAD.

I am wildly happy! Engaged to the female cashier of the manager who has discharged me, our future is bright and secure!

[_He goes out; and_ MRS. LINDEN _sets the furniture straight; presently a noise is heard outside, and_ HELMER _enters, dragging_ NORA _in. She is in fancy dress, and he in an open black domino._

NORA.

I shan"t! It"s too early to come away from such a nice party. I _won"t_ go to bed!

[_She whimpers._

HELMER.

[_Tenderly._] There"sh a naughty lil" larkie for you, Mrs. Linen!

Poshtively had to drag her "way! She"sh a capricious lil" girl--from Capri. "Scuse me!--"fraid I"ve been and made a pun. Shan" "cur again!

Shplendid champagne the Consul gave us--"counts for it! [_Sits down smiling._] Do you _knit_, Mrs. Cotton?... You shouldn"t. Never knit.

"Broider. [_Nodding to her, solemnly._] "Member that. Alwaysh _"broider_. More--[_hiccoughing_]--Oriental! Gobblesh you!--goo"ni!

MRS. LINDEN.

I only came in to--to see Nora"s costume. Now I"ve seen it, I"ll go.

[_Goes out._

HELMER.

Awful bore that woman--hate boresh! [_Looks at_ NORA, _then comes nearer._] Oh, you prillil squillikins, I _do_ love you so! Shomehow, I feel sho lively thishevenin"!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Oh, you prillil squillikins!"]

NORA.

[_Goes to other side of table._] I won"t _have_ all that, Torvald!

HELMER.

Why? ain"t you my lil" lark--ain"t thish our lil" cage? Ver-_well_, then.

[_A ring._] Rank! confound it all! [_Enter_ Dr. RANK.] Rank, dear old boy, you"ve been [_hiccoughs_] going it upstairs. Cap"tal champagne, eh?

"_Shamed_ of you, Rank!