MRS LINDE. Indeed I don’t know. Many a time did I ask myself if I had the right to do it. KROGSTAD. _[more gently]_. When I lost you, it was as if all the solid ground went from under my feet. Look at me now—I am a shipwrecked man clinging to a bit of wreckage. MRS LINDE. But help may be near. KROGSTAD. It was near; but then you came and stood in my way. MRS LINDE. Unintentionally, Nils. It was only today that I learned it was your place I was going to take in the Bank. KROGSTAD. I believe you, if you say so. But now that you know it, are you not going to give it up to me? MRS LINDE. No, because that would not benefit you in the least. KROGSTAD. Oh, benefit, benefit—I would have done it whether or no. MRS LINDE. I have learned to act prudently. Life, and hard, bitter necessity have taught me that. KROGSTAD. And life has taught me not to believe in fine speeches. MRS LINDE. Then life has taught you something very reasonable. But deeds you must believe in? KROGSTAD. What do you mean by that? MRS LINDE. You said you were like a shipwrecked man clinging to some wreckage. KROGSTAD. I had good reason to say so. MRS LINDE. Well, I am like a shipwrecked woman clinging to some wreckage—no one to mourn for, no one to care for. KROGSTAD. It was your own choice. MRS LINDE. There was no other choice—then. KROGSTAD. Well, what now? MRS LINDE. Nils, how would it be if we two shipwrecked people could join forces? KROGSTAD. What are you saying? MRS LINDE. Two on the same piece of wreckage would stand a better chance than each on their own. KROGSTAD. Christine I... MRS LINDE. What do you suppose brought me to town? KROGSTAD. Do you mean that you gave me a thought? MRS LINDE. I could not endure life without work. All my life, as long as I can remember, I have worked, and it has been my greatest and only pleasure. But now I am quite alone in the world—my life is so dreadfully empty and I feel so forsaken. There is not the least pleasure in working for one’s self. Nils, give me someone and something to work for. KROGSTAD. I don’t trust that. It is nothing but a woman’s overstrained sense of generosity that prompts you to make such an offer of yourself. MRS LINDE. Have you ever noticed anything of the sort in me? KROGSTAD. Could you really do it? Tell me—do you know all about my past life? MRS LINDE. Yes. KROGSTAD. And do you know what they think of me here? MRS LINDE. You seemed to me to imply that with me you might have been quite another man. KROGSTAD. I am certain of it. MRS LINDE. Is it too late now? KROGSTAD. Christine, are you saying this deliberately? Yes, I am sure you are. I see it in your face. Have you really the courage, then—? MRS LINDE. I want to be a mother to someone, and your children need a mother. We two need each other. Nils, I have faith in your real character—I can dare anything together with you.