Mrs. Helseth. Yes, miss, that is the truth.
Rebecca. But, my dear Mrs. Helseth, what do you mean by that?
Mrs. Helseth. I mean what is true and right, miss. He should not get out of it in this way—that he shouldn't.
Rebecca (looking at her). Now look here, Mrs. Helseth. Tell me, honestly and frankly, why you think I am going away.
Mrs. Helseth. Good Lord, miss—because it is necessary, I suppose. Well, well!—Still, I certainly do not think Mr. Rosmer has behaved well. There was some excuse in Mortensgaard's case, because the woman's husband was still alive; so that it was impossible for them to marry, however much they wished it. But Mr. Rosmer, he could—ahem!
Rebecca (with a faint smile). Is it possible that you could think such things about me and Mr. Rosmer?
Mrs. Helseth. Not for a moment—until to-day, I mean.
Rebecca. But why to-day?
Mrs. Helseth. Well, after all the horrible things they tell me one may see in the papers about Mr. Rosmer—
Rebecca. Ah!