Nora (putting her hands on his shoulders). Dear, dear Doctor Rank, death mustn't take you away from Torvald and me.
Rank. It is a loss you would easily recover from. Those who are gone are soon forgotten.
Nora (looking at him anxiously). Do you believe that?
Rank. People form new ties, and then—
Nora. Who will form new ties?
Rank. Both you and Helmer, when I am gone. You yourself are already on the high road to it, I think. What did that Mrs. Linde want here last night?
Nora. Oho!—you don't mean to say you are jealous of poor Christine?
Rank. Yes, I am. She will be my successor in this house. When I am done for, this woman will—
Nora. Hush! don't speak so loud. She is in that room.