The Final Confrontation

Sit down. I have a lot to say to you.

Nora—what is this?—this cold, set face?

Sit down. It will take some time; I have a lot to talk over with you.

You alarm me, Nora!—and I don't understand you.

No, that is just it. You don't understand me, and I have never understood you either—before tonight. No, you mustn't interrupt me. You must simply listen to what I say. Torvald, this is a settling of accounts.

What do you mean by that?

Doesn't anything strike you as strange in our sitting here like this?

What is that?

We have been married now eight years. Does it not occur to you that this is the first time we two, you and I, husband and wife, have had a serious conversation?

What do you mean by serious?

In all these eight years—longer than that—from the very beginning of our acquaintance, we have never exchanged a word on any serious subject.