Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/306

 Manders.

[In the doorway.] H'm—h'm!—Come along, my dear Engstrand. Good-bye! Good-bye!

[He and Engstrand go out through the hall.

Oswald.

[Goes towards the table.] What house was he talking about?

Mrs. Alving.

Oh, a kind of Home that he and Pastor Manders want to set up.

Oswald.

It will burn down like the other.

Mrs. Alving.

What makes you think so?

Oswald.

Everything will burn. All that recalls father's memory is doomed. Here am I, too, burning down. [Regina starts and looks at him.

Mrs. Alving.

Oswald! You oughtn't to have remained so long down there, my poor boy.

Oswald.

[Sits down by the table.] I almost think you are right.

Mrs. Alving.

Let me dry your face, Oswald; you are quite wet.

[She dries his face with her pocket-handkerchief.