Kroll. And when I tried to divert her mind from such melancholy fancies, she only answered: "I have not long to live; for Johannes must marry Rebecca at once."
Rosmer. [Almost speechless.] What do you say? I marry?
Kroll. That was on a Thursday afternoon. On the Saturday evening she threw herself from the bridge into the mill-race.
Rosmer. And you never warned us!
Kroll. You know very well how often she used to say that she felt her end was near.
Rosmer. Yes, I know. But nevertheless—you should have warned us!
Kroll. I did think of it; but not till too late.
Rosmer. But afterwards, why did you not? Why have you said nothing about all this?
Kroll. What good would it have done for me to come torturing and harassing you still further? I took all she said for mere wild, empty ravings—until yesterday evening.
