Dr. Herdal.
She drifted over to you, then?
Solness.
Yes, entirely. If I happen to look at her when her back is turned, I can tell that she feels it. She quivers and trembles the moment I come near her. What do you think of that?
Dr. Herdal.
H'm—that's not very hard to explain.
Solness.
Well, but what about the other thing? That she believed I had said to her what I had only wished and willed—silently—inwardly—to myself? What do you say to that? Can you explain that, Dr. Herdal?
Dr. Herdal.
No, I won't undertake to do that.
Solness.
I felt sure you would not; and so I have never cared to talk about it till now.—But it's a cursed nuisance to me in the long run, you understand. Here have I got to go on day after day pretending. And it's a shame to treat her so, too, poor girl. [Vehemently.] But I cannot do anything else. For if she runs away from me—then Ragnar will be off too.
Dr. Herdal.
And you have not told your wife the rights of the story?
