_Reb._ (_wringing her hands_). Oh, this killing doubt! (_Looks darkly
at him._) Is there anything _I_ can do to convince you?

_Rosmer_ (_as if impelled to speak against his will_). Yes, one
thing--only I'm afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And
yet I must mention it. It is like this. I want to recover faith in
my mission, in my power to ennoble human souls. And, as a logical
thinker, this I cannot do now, unless--well, unless you jump into the
mill-race, too, like BEATA!

_Reb._ (_takes up her antimacassar, with composure, and puts it on her
head_). Anything to oblige you.

_Rosmer_ (_springs up_). What? You really _will_! You are _sure_ you
don't mind? Then, REBECCA, I will go further. I will even go--yes--as
far as you go yourself!

_Reb._ (_bows her head towards his breast_). You will see me off?
Thanks. Now you are indeed an Ibsenite.

[_Smiles almost imperceptibly._

_Rosmer_ (_cautiously_). I said as far as _you_ go. I don't commit
myself further than that. Shall we go?

_Reb._ First tell me this. Are _you_ going with _me_, or am _I_ going
with _you_?

_Rosmer_. A subtle psychological point--but we have not time to think
it out here. We will discuss it as we go along. Come!