Gina. I suppose you must know it. He didn’t give it up until he’d had his way.
Hjalmar (striking his hands together). And this is the mother of my child! How could you hide this from me?
Gina. It was wrong of me; I ought certainly to have told you long ago.
Hjalmar. You should have told me at the very first; then I should have known what you were.
Gina. But would you have married me all the same?
Hjalmar. How can you suppose so?
Gina. That’s just why I didn’t dare to tell you anything then. I’d come to care for you so much, you know; and I couldn’t go and make myself utterly miserable....
Hjalmar. Haven’t you every day, every hour, repented of the spider’s web of deceit you had spun around me? Answer me that! How could you help writhing with penitence and remorse?
Gina. My dear Ekdal, I’ve plenty to do looking after the house, and all the daily business——
Further on the idea of self-deliverance and purification through confession is pitilessly travestied.