(Checks himself.) No, no, do not let us get upon
that sad and distressing topic this evening.
Rebecca. No, my dear Mr. Kroll, certainly not.
Kroll. Tell me, instead, how you find you get on at Rosmersholm,
now that you are alone here--I mean, since our poor Beata--
Rebecca. Oh, thanks--I get on very well here. Her death has made a
great gap in the house in many ways, of course--and one misses her
and grieves for her, naturally. But in other respects--
Kroll. Do you think you will remain here?--permanently, I mean?
Rebecca. Dear Mr. Kroll, I really never think about it at all.
The fact is that I have become so thoroughly domesticated here
that I almost feel as if I belonged to the place too.
Kroll. You? I should think you did!
Rebecca. And as long as Mr. Rosmer finds I can be any comfort or
any use to him, I will gladly remain here, undoubtedly.
Kroll (looking at her, with some emotion). You know, there is
something splendid about a woman's sacrificing the whole of her
youth for others.
Rebecca. What else have I had to live for?
Kroll. At first when you came here there was your perpetual worry
with that unreasonable cripple of a foster-father of yours--
Rebecca. You mustn't think that Dr. West was as unreasonable as
that when we lived in Finmark. It was the trying journeys by sea
that broke him up. But it is quite true that after we had moved
here there were one or two hard years before his sufferings were
over.
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