Nora.
[Draws a long breath of relief.] It’s you——?
Rank.
Who else should it be?—Why lie to one’s self? I am the most wretched of all my patients, Mrs. Helmer. In these last days I have been auditing my life-account—bankrupt! Perhaps before a month is over, I shall lie rotting in the churchyard.
Nora.
Oh! What an ugly way to talk.
Rank.
The thing itself is so confoundedly ugly, you see. But the worst of it is, so many other ugly things have to be gone through first. There is only one last investigation to be made, and when that is over I shall know pretty certainly when the break-up will begin. There’s one thing I want to say to you: Helmer’s delicate nature shrinks so from all that is horrible: I will not have him in my sick-room——
Nora.
But, Doctor Rank——