Nora.
[After a short silence, throws her head back and looks defiantly at him.] No, it was not. I wrote father’s name.
Krogstad.
Ah!—Are you aware, madam, that that is a dangerous admission?
Nora.
How so? You will soon get your money.
Krogstad.
May I ask you one more question? Why did you not send the paper to your father?[father?]
Nora.
It was impossible. Father was ill. If I had asked him for his signature, I should have had to tell him why I wanted the money; but he was so ill I really could not tell him that my husband’s life was in danger. It was impossible.