[_Sitting down near the stove._] I am a miserable, hypochondriacal wretch--that's what _I_ am. And why am I doomed to be dismal? Why? Because my father died of a fit of the blues! _Is_ that fair--I put it to _you_? NORA. Do try to be funnier than _that_! See, I will show you the flesh-coloured silk tights that I am to wear to-night--it will cheer you up. But you must only look at the feet--well, you may look at the rest if you're good. _Aren't_ they lovely? Will they fit me, do you think? DR. RANK. [_Gloomily._] A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the best authority on the fit of silk stockings. I shall be food for worms before long--I _know_ I shall! [Illustration: "A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the best authority on the fit of silk stockings."] NORA. You mustn't really be so frivolous! Take that! [_She hits him lightly on the ear with the stockings; then hums a little._] I want you to do me a great service, Dr. Rank. [_Rolling up stockings._] I always liked _you_. I love Torvald most, of _course_--but, somehow, I'd rather spend my time with you--you _are_ so amusing! RANK. If I am, can't you guess why? [_A short silence._] Because I love you! You can't pretend you didn't know it! NORA. Perhaps not--but it was really too clumsy of you to mention it just as I was about to ask a favour of you! It was in the worst taste! [_With dignity._] You must not imagine because I joke with you about silk stockings, and tell you things I never tell Torvald, that I am therefore without the most delicate and scrupulous self-respect! I am really quite a good little doll, Dr. Rank, and now--[_sits in rocking chair and smiles_]--now I shan't ask you what I was going to! [ELLEN _comes in with a card._ NORA. [_Terrified._] Oh, my goodness! [_Puts it in her pocket._ DR. RANK. Excuse my easy Norwegian pleasantry--but--h'm--anything disagreeable up? NORA. [_To herself._] Krogstad's card! I must tell _another_ whopper! [_To_ RANK.] No, nothing--only--only my new costume. I want to try it on here. I always do try on my dresses in the drawing-room--it's _cosier_, you know. So go in to Torvald and amuse him till I'm ready. [RANK _goes into_ HELMER'S _room, and_ NORA _bolts the door upon him, as_ KROGSTAD _enters from hall in a fur cap_. KROGSTAD.