Solness--are you certain that you have never called me
to you? Inwardly, you know?
SOLNESS.
[Softly and slowly.] I almost think I must have.
HILDA.
What did you want with me?
SOLNESS.
You are the younger generation, Hilda.
HILDA.
[Smiles.] That younger generation that you are so afraid of?
SOLNESS.
[Nods slowly.] And which, in my heart, I yearn towards so deeply.
[HILDA rises, goes to the little table, and fetches RAGNAR
BROVIK'S portfolio.
HILDA.
[Holds out the portfolio to him.] We were talking of these drawings---
SOLNESS.
[Shortly, waving them away.] Put those things away! I have seen
enough of them.
HILDA.
Yes, but you have to write your approval on them.
SOLNESS.
Write my approval on them? Never!
HILDA.
But the poor old man is lying at death's door! Can't you give him
and his son this pleasure before they are parted? And perhaps he
might get the commission to carry them out, too.
SOLNESS.
Yes, that is just what he would get. He has made sure of that--has
my fine gentleman!
HILDA.
Then, good heavens--if that is so--can't you tell the least little
bit of a lie for once in a way?
SOLNESS.
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