Oswald comes back. I will come back
and see you again presently.

(He takes his hat and goes out by the hall door. MRS. ALVING sighs,
glances out of the window, puts one or two things tidy in the room and
turns to go into the dining-room. She stops in the doorway with a
stifled cry.)

Mrs. Alving. Oswald, are you still sitting at table!

Oswald (from the dining-room). I am only finishing my cigar.

Mrs. Alving. I thought you had gone out for a little turn.

Oswald (from within the room). In weather like this? (A glass is heard
clinking. MRS. ALVING leaves the door open and sits down with her
knitting on the couch by the window.) Wasn't that Mr. Manders that went
out just now?

Mrs. Alving. Yes, he has gone over to the Orphanage.

Oswald. Oh. (The clink of a bottle on a glass is heard again.)

Mrs. Alving (with an uneasy expression.) Oswald, dear, you should be
careful with that liqueur. It is strong.

Oswald. It's a good protective against the damp.

Mrs. Alving. Wouldn't you rather come in here?

Oswald. You know you don't like smoking in there.

Mrs. Alving. You may smoke a cigar in here, certainly.

Oswald. All right; I will come in, then. Just one drop more. There!
(Comes in, smoking a cigar, and shuts the door after him. A short
silence.) Where has the parson gone?

Mrs. Alving. I told you he had gone over to the Orphanage.

Oswald. Oh, so you did.

Mrs. Alving. You shouldn't sit so long at table, Oswald,

Oswald (holding his cigar behind his back). But it's so nice and cosy,
mother dear. (Caresses her with one hand.) Think what it means to
me--to have come home; to sit at my mother's own table, in my mother's
own room, and to enjoy the charming meals she gives me.

Mrs. Alving. My dear, dear boy!

Oswald (a little impatiently, as he walks tip and down smoking.) And
what else is there for me to do here? I have no occupation--

Mrs. Alving. No occupation?

Oswald. Not in this ghastly weather, when there isn't a blink of
sunshine all day long. (Walks up and down the floor.) Not to be able to
work, it's--!

Mrs. Alving. I don't believe you were wise to come home.

Oswald. Yes, mother; I had to.

Mrs. Alving. Because I would ten times rather give up the happiness of
having you with me, sooner than that you should--

Oswald (standing still by the table). Tell me, mother--is it really
such a great happiness for you to have me at home?

Mrs. Alving. Can you ask?

Oswald (crumpling up a