earn more than before. But during the first year he over-worked
himself dreadfully. You see, he had to make money every way he
could, and he worked early and late; but he couldn't stand it,
and fell dreadfully ill, and the doctors said it was necessary
for him to go south.

Mrs. Linde. You spent a whole year in Italy, didn't you?

Nora. Yes. It was no easy matter to get away, I can tell you. It was
just after Ivar was born; but naturally we had to go. It was a
wonderfully beautiful journey, and it saved Torvald's life. But
it cost a tremendous lot of money, Christine.

Mrs. Linde. So I should think.

Nora. It cost about two hundred and fifty pounds. That's a lot,
isn't it?

Mrs. Linde. Yes, and in emergencies like that it is lucky to have
the money.

Nora. I ought to tell you that we had it from papa.

Mrs. Linde. Oh, I see. It was just about that time that he died,
wasn't it?

Nora. Yes; and, just think of it, I couldn't go and nurse him. I
was expecting little Ivar's birth every day and I had my poor
sick Torvald to look after. My dear, kind father--I never saw him
again, Christine. That was the saddest time I have known since