NORA.
What is what, dear?
HELMER.
Rank led me to expect a splendid transformation.
RANK.
[in the doorway]. I understood so, but evidently I was mistaken.
NORA.
Yes, nobody is to have the chance of admiring me in my dress until tomorrow.
HELMER.
But, my dear Nora, you look so worn out. Have you been practising too much?
NORA.
No, I have not practised at all.
HELMER.
But you will need to—
NORA.
Yes, indeed I shall, Torvald. But I can’t get on a bit without you to help me; I have absolutely forgotten the whole thing.
HELMER.
Oh, we will soon work it up again.
NORA.
Yes, help me, Torvald. Promise that you will! I am so nervous about it—all the people—. You must give yourself up to me entirely this evening. Not the tiniest bit of business—you mustn’t even take a pen in your hand. Will you promise, Torvald dear?