of a family, I cannot but writhe and groan under it. I can tell you it is no joke for a man without capital to attempt the repayment of a long-standing obligation, over which, so to speak, the dust of oblivion had gathered. But it cannot be helped: the Man in me demands his rights.
Gregers.
[Laying his hand on Hialmar's shoulder.] My dear Hialmar—was it not a good thing I came?
Hialmar.
Yes.
Gregers.
Are you not glad to have had your true position made clear to you?
Hialmar.
[Somewhat impatiently.] Yes, of course I am. But there is one thing that is revolting to my sense of justice.
Gregers.
And what is that?
Hialmar.
It is that—but I don't know whether I ought to express myself so unreservedly about your father.
Gregers.
Say what you please, so far as I am concerned.
Hialmar.
Well then, is it not exasperating to think that it is not I, but he, who will realise the true marriage?
Gregers.
How can you say such a thing?
