NORA. Yes; odds and ends, needlework, crotchet-work, embroidery, and that kind of thing. _[Dropping her voice.]_ And other things as well. You know Torvald left his office when we were married? There was no prospect of promotion there, and he had to try and 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 our marriage. MRS LINDE. I know how fond you were of him. And then you went off to Italy? NORA. Yes; you see we had money then, and the doctors insisted on our going, so we started a month later. MRS LINDE. And your husband came back quite well? NORA. As sound as a bell! MRS LINDE. But—the doctor? NORA. What doctor? MRS LINDE. I thought your maid said the gentleman who arrived here just as I did, was the doctor? NORA. Yes, that was Doctor Rank, but he doesn’t come here professionally. He is our greatest friend, and comes in at least once every day. No, Torvald has not had an hour’s illness since then, and our children are strong and healthy and so am I. _[Jumps up and claps her hands.]_ Christine! Christine! it’s good to be alive and happy!—But how horrid of me; I am talking of nothing but my own affairs. _[Sits on a stool near her, and rests her arms on her knees.]_ You mustn’t be angry with me. Tell me, is it really true that you did not love your husband? Why did you marry him? MRS LINDE. My mother was alive then, and was bedridden and helpless, and I had to provide for my two younger brothers; so I did not think I was justified in refusing his offer. NORA. No, perhaps you were quite right. He was rich at that time, then? MRS LINDE. I believe he was quite well off. But his business was a precarious one; and, when he died, it all went to pieces and there was nothing left. NORA. And then?—