Regina. I know what sailors are, I tell you. They aren't the sort of people to marry. 

 Engstrand. Well, don't bother about marrying them. You can make it pay just as well. (More confidentially.) That fellow—the Englishman—the one with the yacht—he gave seventy pounds, he did; and she wasn't a bit prettier than you. 

 Regina (advancing towards him). Get out! 

 Engstrand (stepping back). Here! here!—you're not going to hit me, I suppose? 

 Regina. Yes! If you talk like that of mother, I will hit you. Get out, I tell. You! (Pushes him up to the garden door.) And don't bang the doors. Young Mr. Alving— 

 Engstrand. Is asleep—I know. It's funny how anxious you are about young Mr. Alving. (In a lower tone.) Oho! is it possible that it is he that—? 

 Regina. Get out, and be quick about it! Your wits are wandering, my good man. No, don't go that way; Mr. Manders is just coming along. Be off down the kitchen stairs. 

 Engstrand (moving towards the right). Yes, yes—all right. But have a bit of a chat with him that's coming along. He's the chap to tell you what a child owes to its father. For I am your father, anyway, you know, I can prove it by the Register. (He goes out through the farther door which REGINA has opened. She shuts it after him, looks hastily at herself in the mirror, fans herself with her handkerchief and sets her collar straight; then busies herself with the flowers. MANDERS enters the conservatory through the garden door. He wears an overcoat, carries an umbrella, and has a small travelling-bag slung over his shoulder on a strap.) 

 Manders. Good morning, Miss Engstrand. 

 Regina (turning round with a look of pleased surprise), Oh, Mr. Manders, good morning. The boat is in, then? 

 Manders. Just in. (Comes into the room.) It is most tiresome, this rain every day. 

 Regina (following him in). It's a splendid rain for the farmers, Mr. Manders. 

 Manders. Yes, you are quite right. We townfolk think so little about that. (Begins to take off his overcoat.) 

 Regina. Oh, let me help you. That's it. Why, how wet it is! I will hang it up in the hall. Give me your umbrella, too; I will leave it open, so that it will dry. 

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