[_Goes and sits on sofa._] Oh, my goodness, Rebecca--you _mustn't_, you know! [_He jumps up and down as if embarrassed._ [Illustration: "Oh, my goodness, Rebecca--you _mustn't_, you know!"] REBECCA. Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve--little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the Rosmer view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The Rosmer view of life is ennobling, very--but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you. ROSMER. [_Turning it off._] Isn't that enough for one evening? REBECCA. [_Almost voiceless._] No, dear. I have a Past--_behind_ me! ROSMER. _Behind_ you? How strange. I had an idea of that sort already. [_Starts, as if in fear._] A joke! [_Sadly._] Ah, no--_no_, I must not give way to _that_! Never mind the Past, Rebecca; I once thought that I had made the grand discovery that, if one is only virtuous, one will be happy. I see now it was too daring, too original--an immature dream. What bothers me is that I can't--somehow I _can't_--believe entirely in you--I am not even sure that I _have_ ennobled you so very much--_isn't_ it terrible? REBECCA. [_Wringing her hands._] Oh, this killing doubt! [_Looks darkly at him._] Is there anything _I_ can do to convince you? ROSMER. [_As if impelled to speak against his will._] Yes, one thing--only I'm afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And yet I must mention it. It is like this. I want to recover faith in my mission, in my power to ennoble human souls. And, as a logical thinker, this I cannot do now, unless--well, unless you jump into the mill-race, too, like Beata! _REBECCA._ [_Takes up her antimacassar, with composure, and puts it on her head._] Anything to oblige you. _ROSMER._ [_Springs up._] What? You really _will_! You are _sure_ you don't mind? Then, Rebecca, I will go further. I will even go--yes--as far as you go yourself! _REBECCA._ [_Bows her head towards his breast._] You will see me off? Thanks. Now you are indeed an Ibsenite. [_Smiles almost imperceptibly._ _ROSMER._ [_Cautiously._] I said as far as _you_ go. I don't commit myself further than that. Shall we go? REBECCA. First tell me this. Are _you_ going with _me_, or am _I_ going with _you?_ ROSMER. A subtle psychological point--but we have not time to think it out here. We will discuss it as we go along. Come! [ROSMER _takes his hat and stick_, REBECCA _her reticule, with sandwiches. They go out hand-in-hand through the door, which they leave open. The room (as is not uncommon with rooms in Norway) is left empty. Then_ MADAM HELSETH _enters through another door_. MADAM HELSETH.