Christmas-tree after her--which he puts down. NORA gives
him a shilling--and he goes out grumbling. NORA hums
contentedly, and eats macaroons. Then HELMER puts his
head out of his Manager's room, and NORA hides macaroons
cautiously._

_Helmer_ (_playfully_). Is that my little squirrel twittering--that my
lark frisking in here?

_Nora_. Ess! (_To herself._) I have only been married eight years, so
these marital amenities have not yet had time to pall!

[Illustration: "Boo!"]

_Helmer_ (_threatening with his finger_). I hope the little bird has
surely not been digging its beak into any macaroons, eh?

_Nora_ (_bolting one, and wiping her mouth_). No, most certainly not.
(_To herself_.) The worst of being so babyish is--one _does_ have to
tell such a lot of taradiddles! (_To H._) See what _I_'ve bought--it's
been _such_ fun!

[_Hums._

_Helmer_ (_inspecting parcels_). H'm--rather an _expensive_ little
lark!

[_Takes her playfully by the ear._

_Nora_. Little birds like to have a flutter occasionally. Which