Gina. No; Heaven knows I'd almost forgotten those old stories.
Hialmar. Oh, this dull, callous contentment! To me there is something revolting about it. Think of it—never so much as a twinge of remorse!
Gina. But tell me, Ekdal—what would have become of you if you hadn't had a wife like me?
Hialmar. Like you!
Gina. Yes; for you know I've always been a bit more practical and wide-awake than you. Of course I'm a year or two older.
Hialmar. What would have become of me!
Gina. You'd got into all sorts of bad ways when first you met me; that you can't deny.
Hialmar. "Bad ways" do you call them? Little do you know what a man goes through when he is in grief and despair—especially a man of my fiery temperament.
Gina. Well, well, that may be so. And I've no reason to crow over you, neither; for you turned a moral
