Rebecca.
Well, it would be only natural if you felt it painful to see a stranger managing the household here at Rosmersholm.
Kroll.
Why, how on earth!
Rebecca.
But you have no such feeling? [Takes his hand.] Thanks, my dear Rector; thank you again and again.
Kroll.
How on earth did you get such an idea into your head?
Rebecca.
I began to be a little afraid when your visits became so rare.
Kroll.
Then you have been on a totally wrong scent, Miss West. Besides—after all, there has been no essential change. Even while poor Beata was alive—in her last unhappy days—it was you, and you alone, that managed everything.
Rebecca.
That was only a sort of regency in Beata's name.
Kroll.
Be that as it may. Do you know, Miss West—for my part, I should have no objection whatever if you. But I suppose I mustn't say such a thing.
Rebecca.
What must you not say?
