HELMER [Rises and gathers up his papers.] Yes, and I must try to get some of these papers looked through before dinner. And I shall think over your costume too. Perhaps I may even find something to hang in gilt paper on the Christmas-tree-. [Lays his hand on her head.] My precious little song-bird! [He goes into his room and shuts the door.] NORA [Softly, after a pause.] It can't be. It's impossible. It must be impossible! ANNA [At the door, left.] The little ones are begging so prettily to come to mamma. NORA No, no, no; don't let them come to me! Keep them with you, Anna. ANNA Very well, ma'am. [Shuts the door.] NORA [Pale with terror.] Corrupt my children!--Poison my home! [Short pause. She throws back her head.] It's not true! It can never, never be true! |
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