Helmer.
Yes, don’t you, Nora darling? When we are among strangers, do you know why I speak so little to you, and keep so far away, and only steal a glance at you now and then—do you know why I do it? Because I am fancying that we love each other in secret, that I am secretly betrothed to you, and that no one dreams that there is anything between us.
Nora.
Yes, yes, yes. I know all your thoughts are with me.
Helmer.
And then, when the time comes to go, and I put the shawl about your smooth, soft shoulders, and this glorious neck of yours, I imagine you are my bride, that our marriage is just over, that I am bringing you for the first time to my home—that I am alone with you for the first time—quite alone with you, in your trembling loveliness! All this evening I have been longing for you, and you only. When I watched you swaying and whirling in the tarantella—my blood boiled—I could endure it no longer; and that’s why I made you come home with me so early——
Nora.
Go now, Torvald! Go away from me. I won’t have all this.
Helmer.
What do you mean? Ah, I see you’re teasing me, little Nora! Won’t—won’t! Am I not your husband——?