[Softly, with emotion.] For building up the souls of little children, Hilda. For building up children's souls in perfect balance, and in noble and beautiful forms. For enabling them to soar up into erect and full-grown human souls. That was Aline's talent. And there it all lies now—unused and unusable for ever—of no earthly service to any one—just like the ruins left by a fire.
Yes, but even if this were so—?
It is so! It is so! I know it!
Well, but in any case it is not your fault.
[Fixes his eyes on her, and nods slowly.] Ah, that is the great, the terrible question. That is the doubt that is gnawing me—night and day.
That?
Yes. Suppose the fault was mine—in a certain sense.
Your fault! The fire!
All of it; the whole thing. And yet, perhaps—I may not have had anything to do with it.
[Looks at him with a troubled expression.] Oh, Mr. Solness—if you can talk like that, I am afraid you must be—ill after all.