think that most people—? 

 Mrs. Alving. Yes, indeed, I do. 

 Manders. But not here in the country at any rate? Not here amongst people like ourselves? 

 Mrs. Alving. Yes, amongst people like ourselves too. 

 Manders. Well, really, I must say—! 

 Mrs. Alving. But what is the particular objection that you have to these books? 

 Manders. What objection? You surely don't suppose that I take any particular interest in such productions? 

 Mrs. Alving. In fact, you don't know anything about what you are denouncing? 

 Manders. I have read quite enough about these books to disapprove of them: 

 Mrs. Alving. Yes, but your own opinion— 

 Manders. My dear Mrs. Alving, there are many occasions in life when one has to rely on the opinion of others. That is the way in this world, and it is quite right that it should be so. What would become of society, otherwise? 

 Mrs. Alving. Well, you may be right. 

 Manders. Apart from that, naturally I don't deny that literature of this kind may have a considerable attraction. And I cannot blame you, either, for wishing to make yourself acquainted with the intellectual tendencies which I am told are at work in the wider world in which you have allowed your son to wander for so long but— 

 Mrs. Alving. But—? 

 Manders (lowering his voice). But one doesn't talk about it, Mrs. Alving. One certainly is not called upon to account to everyone for what one reads or thinks in the privacy of one's own room. 

 Mrs. Alving. Certainly not. I quite agree with you. 

 Manders. Just think of the consideration you owe to this Orphanage, which you decided to build at a time when your thoughts on such subjects were very different from what they are now—as far as I am able to judge. 

 Mrs. Alving. Yes, I 

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