lar duties? (_Sewing._)
Don't you think, NORA, that you see a little too much of Dr. RANK?

_Nora_. Oh, I _couldn't_ see too much of Dr. RANK! He _is_ so
amusing--always talking about his complaints, and heredity, and
all sorts of indescribably funny things. Go away now, dear; I hear
TORVALD. [Mrs. LINDEN _goes. Enter_ TORVALD _from the Manager's room._
NORA _runs trippingly to him._

_Nora_ (_coaxing_). Oh, TORVALD, if only you won't dismiss KROGSTAD,
you can't think how your little lark would jump about and twitter!

_Helmer_. The inducement would be stronger but for the fact that,
as it is, the little lark is generally engaged in that particular
occupation. And I really _must_ get rid of KROGSTAD. If I didn't,
people would say I was under the thumb of my little squirrel here,
and then KROGSTAD and I knew each other in early youth; and when
two people knew each other in early youth--(_a short pause_)--h'm!
Besides, he _will_ address me as, "I say, TORVALD"--which causes me
most painful emotion! He is tactless, dishonest, familiar, and morally
ruined--altogether not at all the kind of person to be a Cashier in a
Bank like mine.

[Illustration: "A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the
best authority on the fit of silk stockings."]

_Nora_. But he writes in scurrilous papers,--he is on the staff of the
Norwegian _Punch_. If you dismiss him, he may write nasty things about
_you_, as wicked people did about poor dear Papa!

_Helmer_. Your poor dear Papa was not impeccable--far from it. I
_am_--which makes all the difference. I have here a letter giving
KROGSTAD the sack. One of the conveniences of living close to the Bank
is, that I can use the housemaids as Bank-messengers. (_Goes to door
and calls._) ELLEN! (_Enter parlourmaid._) Take that letter--there is
no answer. (ELLEN _takes it and goes._) That's settled--so now, NORA;
as I am going to my private room, it will be a capital opportunity for
you to practise the tambourine--thump away, little lark, the doors are
double! [_Nods to her and goes in, shutting door._

_Nora_ (_stroking her face_). How _am_ I to get out of this mess! (_A
ring at the Visitors' bell._) Dr. RANK's ring! _He_ shall help me out
of it! (Dr. RANK _appears in doorway, hanging up his great-coat._)
Dear Dr. RANK, how _are_ you? [_Takes both his hands._

_Rank_ (_sitting down near the stove_). I am a miserable,
hypochondriacal wretch--that's what _I_ am. And why am I doomed to be