Helmer.
[Inspecting parcels.] H'm—rather an expensive little lark!
[Takes her playfully by the ear.
Nora.
Little birds like to have a flutter occasionally. Which reminds me—— [Plays with his coat-buttons.] I'm such a simple ickle sing—but if you are thinking of giving me a Christmas present, make it cash!
Helmer.
Just like your poor father, he always asked me to make it cash—he never made any himself! It's heredity, I suppose. Well—well!
[Goes back to his Bank. Nora goes on humming.
[Enter Mrs. Linden, doubtfully.
Nora.