ke that. And so are
those who are morally diseased; one of them, and a bad case, too, is at
this very moment with Helmer--

_Mrs. Linde_ (_sadly_). Ah!

_Nora_. Whom do you mean?

_Rank_. A lawyer of the name of Krogstad, a fellow you don't know at
all. He suffers from a diseased moral character, Mrs. Helmer; but even
he began talking of its being highly important that he should live.

_Nora_. Did he? What did he want to speak to Torvald about?

_Rank_. I have no idea; I only heard that it was something about the
Bank.

_Nora_. I didn't know this--what's his name--Krogstad had anything to do
with the Bank.

_Rank_. Yes, he has some sort of appointment there. (_To_ Mrs. LINDE.) I
don't know whether you find also in your part of the world that there
are certain people who go zealously snuffing about to smell out moral
corruption, and, as soon as they have found some, put the person
concerned into some lucrative position where they can keep their eye on
him. Healthy natures are left out in the cold.

_Mrs. Linde_. Still I think the sick are those who most need taking care
of.

_Rank_ (_shrugging his shoulders_). Yes, there you are. That is the
sentiment that is turning Society into a sick-house.

(NORA, _who has been absorbed in her thoughts, breaks out into smothered
laughter and claps her hands_.)

_Rank_. Why do you laugh at that? Have you any notion what Society
really is?

_Nora_. What do I care about tiresome Society? I am laughing at
something quite different, something extremely amusing. Tell me, Doctor
Rank, are all the people who are employed in the Bank dependent on
Torvald now?

_Rank_. Is that what you find so extremely amusing?

_Nora_ (_smiling and humming_). That's my affair! (_Walking about the
room_.) It's perfectly glorious to think that we have--that Torvald has
so much power over so many people. (_Takes the packet from her pocket_.)
Doctor Rank, what do you say to a macaroon?

_Rank_. What, macaroons? I thought they were forbidden here.

_Nora_. Yes, but these are some Christine gave me.

_Mrs. Linde_. What! I?--

_Nora_. Oh, well, don't be alarmed! You couldn't know that Torvald had
forbidden them. I must tell you that he is afraid they will spoil my
teeth. But, bah!--once in a way--That's so, isn't it, Doctor Rank? By
your leave! (_Puts a macaroon into his mouth.)_ You must have one too,
Christine. And I shall have one, just a little one--or at most two.
(_Walking about_.) I