_Nurse_. The little ones are begging so hard to be allowed to come in to
mamma.

_Nora_. No, no, no! Don't let them come in to me! You stay with them,
Anne.

_Nurse_. Very well, ma'am. (_Shuts the door._)

_Nora_ (_pale with terror_). Deprave my little children? Poison my home?
(_A short pause. Then she tosses her head._) It's not true. It can't
possibly be true.




ACT II


(THE SAME SCENE--_The Christmas Tree is in the corner by the piano,
stripped of its ornaments and with burnt-down candle-ends on its
dishevelled branches._ NORA'S _cloak and hat are lying on the sofa. She
is alone in the room, walking about uneasily. She stops by the sofa and
takes up her cloak._)

_Nora_ (_drops the cloak_). Someone is coming now! (_Goes to the door
and listens._) No--it is no one. Of course, no one will come today,
Christmas Day--nor tomorrow either. But, perhaps--(_opens the door and
looks out_.) No, nothing in the letter-box; it is quite empty. (_Comes
forward._) What rubbish! of course he can't be in earnest about it. Such