NORA.
We will have champagne, Helen.
MAID.
Very good, ma’am. [Exit.]
HELMER.
Hullo!—are we going to have a banquet?
NORA.
Yes, a champagne banquet until the small hours. [Calls out.] And a few macaroons, Helen—lots, just for once!
HELMER.
Come, come, don’t be so wild and nervous. Be my own little skylark, as you used.
NORA.
Yes, dear, I will. But go in now and you too, Doctor Rank. Christine, you must help me to do up my hair.
RANK.
[whispers to HELMER as they go out]. I suppose there is nothing—she is not expecting anything?
HELMER.
Far from it, my dear fellow; it is simply nothing more than this childish nervousness I was telling you of. [They go into the right-hand room.]
NORA.
Well!
MRS LINDE.
Gone out of town.