Werle. Yes, I have, and she has, so to say, become almost indispensable to me. She is bright and even-tempered, she cheers up the house—and I need that so sorely.
Gregers. Very well. Then you’ve already got all you want.
Werle. Yes, but I’m afraid things can’t go on so. A woman in such circumstances soon finds herself in an equivocal position in the eyes of the world. And I had almost said that it doesn’t do a man any good either.
Gregers. Oh, when a man gives such dinners as you do he can risk a good deal.
Werle. Yes, but she, Gregers? I’m afraid she will not put up with it much longer. And even if she would—even if she were willing, out of devotion to me, to expose herself to the gossip and scandal, and all that—don’t you think, Gregers, you, with your intensely strong sense of justice——
Gregers (interrupting). Just tell me one thing straight out. Are you thinking of marrying her?
Werle. And if I were thinking of such a thing, what then?
Gregers. I say so, too. What then?
Werle. Would you set yourself absolutely against it?
Gregers. No, certainly not; not in any way.