[_Firmly._] Come right out with it, Ekdal. What has he been saying about me? HIALMAR. Is it true—_can_ it be true that—that there was an—an understanding between you and Mr. Werle, while you were in service there? GINA. That’s not true. Not at that time. Mr. Werle did come after me, that’s a fact. And his wife thought there was something in it, and then she made such a hocus-pocus and hurly-burly, and she hustled me and bustled me about so, that I left her service. HIALMAR. But afterwards, then? GINA. Well, then I went home. And mother—well, she wasn’t the woman you took her for, Ekdal; she kept on worrying and worrying at me about one thing and another—for Mr. Werle was a widower by that time. HIALMAR. Well, and then? GINA. I suppose you’ve got to know it. He gave me no peace until he’d had his way. HIALMAR. [_Striking his hands together._] And this is the mother of my child! How could you hide this from me? GINA. Yes, it was wrong of me; I ought certainly to have told you long ago. HIALMAR. You should have told me at the very first;—then I should have known the sort of woman you were. GINA. But would you have married me all the same? HIALMAR. How can you dream that I would? GINA. That’s just why I didn’t dare tell you anything, then. For I'd come to care for you so much, you see; and I couldn’t go and make myself utterly miserable—— HIALMAR. [_Walks about._] And this is my Hedvig’s mother. And to know that all I see before me—[_Kicks at a chair._]—all that I call my home—I owe to a favoured predecessor! Oh that scoundrel Werle! GINA. Do you repent of the fourteen—the fifteen years as we’ve lived together? HIALMAR. [_Placing himself in front of her._] Have you not every day, every hour, repented of the spider’s-web of deceit you have spun around me? Answer me that! How could you help writhing with penitence and remorse? GINA. Oh, my dear Ekdal, I've had all I could do to look after the house and get through the day’s work—— HIALMAR. Then you never think of reviewing your past? GINA. No; Heaven knows I'd almost forgotten those old stories. HIALMAR. Oh, this dull, callous contentment! To me there is something revolting about it. Think of it—never so much as a twinge of remorse! GINA. But tell me, Ekdal—what would have become of you if you hadn’t had a wife like me?