Rebecca. In any case, now that he feels the absolute necessity of
cutting himself free on all sides
Kroll. Yes; but, let me tell you, that is exactly what I do not
believe.
Rebecca. What do you believe, then?
Kroll. I believe it is you that are at the bottom of the whole
thing.
Rebecca. Your wife put that into your head, Mr. Kroll.
Kroll. It does not matter who put it into my head. The point is
this, that I feel grave doubts--exceedingly grave doubts--when I
recall and think over the whole of your behaviour since you came
here.
Rebecca (looking at him). I have a notion that there was a time
when you had an exceedingly strong BELIEF in me, dear Mr. Kroll--I
might almost say, a warm belief.
Kroll (in a subdued voice). I believe you could bewitch any one--
if you set yourself to do it.
Rebecca. And you say I set myself to do it!
Kroll. Yes, you did. I am no longer such a simpleton as to
suppose that sentiment entered into your little game at all. You
simply wanted to secure yourself admission to Rosmersholm--to
establish yourself here. That was what I was to help you to. I
see it now.
Rebecca. Then you have completely forgotten that it was Beata
that begged and entreated me to come and live here.
Kroll. Yes, because you had bewitched her too. Are you going to
pretend that friendship is the name for what she came to feel
towards you? It was idolatry--adoration.
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