Nora.
[Looking at him a moment.] For shame! [Hits him lightly on the ear with the stockings.] Take that.
[Rolls them up again.
Rank.
And what other wonders am I to see?
Nora.
You sha'n't see anything more; for you don't behave nicely.
[She hums a little and searches among the things.
Rank.
[After a short silence.] When I sit here gossiping with you, I can't imagine—I simply cannot conceive—what would have become of me if I had never entered this house.
Nora.
[Smiling.] Yes, I think you do feel at home with us.
Rank.
[More softly—looking straight before him.] And now to have to leave it all
Nora.
Nonsense. You sha'n't leave us.
Rank.
[In the same tone.] And not to be able to leave behind the slightest token of gratitude; scarcely even a passing regret—nothing but an empty place, that can be filled by the first comer.
Nora.
And if I were to ask you for? No
