Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/273

 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