Nora.
[Playing with his coat-buttons, without looking him in the face.] If you really want to give me something, you might, you know—you might——
Helmer.
Well? Out with it!
Nora.
[Quickly.] You might give me money, Torvald. Only just what you think you can spare; then I can buy something with it later on.
Helmer.
But, Nora——
Nora.
Oh, please do, dear Torvald, please do! I should hang the money in lovely gilt paper on the Christmas-tree. Wouldn’t that be fun?