dismal? Why? Because my father died of a fit of the blues! _Is_ that
fair--I put it to _you_?

_Nora_. Do try to be funnier than _that_! See, I will show you the
flesh-coloured silk tights that I am to wear to-night--it will cheer
you up. But you must only look at the feet--well, you may look at the
rest if you're good. _Aren't_ they lovely? Will they fit me, do you
think?

_Rank_ (_gloomily_). A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not
the best authority on the fit of silk stockings. I shall be food for
worms before long--I _know_ I shall!

_Nora_. You mustn't really be so frivolous! Take that! (_She hits him
lightly on the ear with the stockings; then hums a little._) I want
you to do me a great service, Dr. RANK. (_Rolling up stockings_,) I
always liked _you_. I love TORVALD most, of _course_--but, somehow,
I'd rather spend my time with you--you _are_ so amusing!

_Rank_. If I am, can't you guess why? (_A short silence._) Because I
love you! You can't pretend you didn't know it!

_Nora_. Perhaps not--but it was really too clumsy of you to mention it
just as I was about to ask a favour of you! It was in the worst taste!
(_With dignity._) You must not imagine because I joke with you about
silk stockings, and tell you things I never tell TORVALD, that I am
therefore without the most delicate and scrupulous self-respect! I
am really quite a good little doll, Dr. RANK, and now--(_sits in
rocking-chair and smiles_)--now I shan't ask you what I was going to!
[ELLEN _comes in with a card._