_A bell rings in the hall outside. Presently the outer door of the flat is heard to open. Then NORA enters, humming gaily. She is in outdoor dress, and carries several parcels, which she lays on the right-hand table. She leaves the door into the hall open, and a PORTER is seen outside, carrying a Christmas-tree and a basket, which he gives to the MAID-SERVANT who has opened the door._ NORA. Hide the Christmas-tree carefully, Ellen; the children must on no account see it before this evening, when it’s lighted up. [_To the_ PORTER, _taking out her purse._] How much? PORTER. Fifty öre.[5] NORA. There is a crown. No, keep the change. [_The_ PORTER _thanks her and goes._ NORA _shuts the door. She continues smiling in quiet glee as she takes off her outdoor things. Taking from her pocket a bag of macaroons, she eats one or two. Then she goes on tip-toe to her husband’s door and listens._ NORA. Yes; he is at home. [_She begins humming again, crossing to the table on the right._ HELMER. [_In his room._] Is that my lark twittering there? NORA. [_Busy opening some of her parcels._] Yes, it is. HELMER. Is it the squirrel frisking around? NORA. Yes! HELMER. When did the squirrel get home? NORA. Just this minute. [_Hides the bag of macaroons in her pocket and wipes her mouth._] Come here, Torvald, and see what I’ve been buying. HELMER. Don’t interrupt me. [_A little later he opens the door and looks in, pen in hand._] Buying, did you say? What! All that? Has my little spendthrift been making the money fly again? NORA. Why, Torvald, surely we can afford to launch out a little now. It’s the first Christmas we haven’t had to pinch. HELMER. Come come; we can’t afford to squander money. NORA. Oh yes, Torvald, do let us squander a little, now—just the least little bit! You know you’ll soon be earning heaps of money. HELMER. Yes, from New Year’s Day. But there’s a whole quarter before my first salary is due. NORA. Never mind; we can borrow in the meantime. HELMER. Nora! [_He goes up to her and takes her playfully by the ear._] Still my little featherbrain! Supposing I borrowed a thousand crowns to-day, and you made ducks and drakes of them during Christmas week, and then on New Year’s Eve a tile blew off the roof and knocked my brains out—— NORA.