Rosmer. I tell you it is so. We must try and get to the bottom of it. How can she have strayed into such a woeful misunderstanding of me?
Rebecca. Surely you too are not beginning to doubt that she was very nearly insane?
Rosmer. Well, I cannot deny it is just of that fact that I feel I cannot be so altogether certain any longer. And besides if it were so—
Rebecca. If it were so? What then?
Rosmer. What I mean is—where are we to look for the actual cause of her sick woman's fancies turning into insanity?
Rebecca. What good can it possibly do for you to indulge in such speculations!
Rosmer. I cannot do otherwise, Rebecca. I cannot let this doubt go on gnawing at my heart, however unwilling I may be to face it.
Rebecca. But it may become a real danger to you to be perpetually dwelling on this one lugubrious topic.
Rosmer (walking about restlessly and absorbed in the idea). I must have betrayed myself in some way or other. She must have noticed how happy I began to feel from the day you came to us.
Rebecca. Yes; but dear, even if that were so—