She seemed calmer then; but, as she was going away, she said:
"They may expect to see the White Horse soon at Rosmersholm."

Rosmer. Yes, I know--the White Horse. She often used to talk about
that.

Kroll. And then, when I tried to distract her from such unhappy
thoughts, she only answered: "I have not much time left; for
John must marry Rebecca immediately now."

Rosmer (almost speechless). What are you saying! I marry--!

Kroll. That was on a Thursday afternoon. On the Saturday evening
she threw herself from the footbridge into the millrace.

Rosmer. And you never warned us!

Kroll. Well, you know yourself how constantly she used to say
that she was sure she would die before long.

Rosmer. Yes, I know. But, all the same, you ought to have warned
us!

Kroll. I did think of doing so. But then it was too late.

Rosmer. But since then, why have you not--? Why have you kept all
this to yourself?

Kroll. What good would it have done for me to come here and add
to your pain and distress? Of course I thought the whole thing