)
Rebecca. Good morning.
Rosmer (still turning over the leaves of his book). Good morning,
dear. Do you want anything?
Rebecca. Only to ask if you have slept well?
Rosmer. I went to sleep feeling so secure and happy. I did not
even dream. (Turns round.) And you?
Rebecca. Thanks, I got to sleep in the early morning.
Rosmer. I do not think I have felt so light-hearted for a long
time as I do to-day. I am so glad that I had the opportunity to
say what I did.
Rebecca. Yes, you should not have been silent so long, John.
Rosmer. I cannot understand how I came to be such a coward.
Rebecca. I am sure it was not really from cowardice.
Rosmer. Yes, indeed. I can see that at bottom there was some
cowardice about it.
Rebecca. So much the braver of you to face it as you did. (Sits
down beside him on a chair by the writing-table.) But now I want
to confess something that I have done--something that you must not
be vexed with me about.
Rosmer. Vexed? My dear girl, how can you think--?
Rebecca. Yes, because I dare say it was a little presumptuous of
me, but--
Rosmer. Well, let me hear what it was.
Rebecca. Last night, when that Ulrick Brendel was going, I wrote
him a line or two to take to Mortensgaard.
Rosmer (a little doubtfully). But, my dear Rebecca--What did you
write, then?
Rebecca. I wrote that he would be doing you a service if he
would interest himself a little in that unfortunate man, and help
him in any way he could.
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