always be, a great baby, Manders.

MANDERS: I?

MRS. ALVING: [Laying her two hands upon his shoulders.] And I say that I have half a mind to put my arms round your neck, and kiss you.

MANDERS: [Stepping hastily back.] No, no! God bless me! What an idea!

MRS. ALVING: [With a smile.] Oh, you needn't be afraid of me.

MANDERS: [By the table.] You have sometimes such an exaggerated way of expressing yourself. Now, let me just collect all the documents, and put them in my bag. [He does so.] There, that's all right. And now, good-bye for the present. Keep your eyes open when Oswald comes back. I shall look in again later. [He takes his hat and goes out through the hall door.]MRS. ALVING. [Sighs, looks for a moment out of the window, sets the room in order a little, and is about to go into the dining-room, but stops at the door with a half-suppressed cry.]
OSWALD. [In the dining room.] I'm only finishing my cigar.
MRS. ALVING. I thought you had gone for a little walk.
OSWALD. In such weather as this?
[A glass clinks. MRS. ALVING leaves the door open, and sits down with her knitting on the sofa by the window.]
OSWALD. Wasn't that Pastor Manders that went out just now?
MRS. ALVING. Yes; he went down to the Orphanage.
OSWALD. H'm. [The glass and decanter clink again.]
MRS. ALVING. [With a troubled glance.] Dear Oswald, you should take care of that liqueur. It is strong.
OSWALD. It keeps out the damp.
MRS. ALVING. Wouldn't you rather come in here, to me?
OSWALD. I mayn't smoke in there.
MRS. ALVING. You know quite well you may smoke cigars.
OSWALD. Oh, all right then; I'll come in. Just a tiny drop more first. There! [He comes into the room with his cigar, and shuts the door after him. A short silence.] Where has the pastor gone to?
MRS. ALVING. I have just told you; he went down to the Orphanage.
OSWALD. Oh, yes; so you did.
MRS. ALVING. You shouldn't sit so long at table, Oswald.
OSWALD. [Holding his cigar behind him.] But I find it so pleasant, mother. [Strokes and caresses her.] Just think what it is for me to come home and sit at mother's own table, in mother's room, and eat mother's delicious dishes.
MRS. ALVING. My dear, dear boy!
OSWALD. [Somewhat impatiently, walks about and smokes.] And what else can I do with myself here? I can't set to work at anything.
MRS. ALVING. Why can't you?
OSWALD. In such weather as this? Without a single ray of sunshine the whole day? [Walks up 

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