Alving. I know best what sort of a father he has been to
her. No, she shall never go to him with my consent.
Manders (getting up). My dear lady, don't judge so hastily. It is
very sad how you misjudge poor Engstrand. One would really think
you were afraid...
Mrs. Alving (more calmly). That is not the question. I have taken
Regina into my charge, and in my charge she remains. (Listens.)
Hush, dear Mr. Manders, don't say any more about it. (Her face
brightens with pleasure.) Listen! Oswald is coming downstairs. We
will only think about him now.
(OSWALD ALVING, in a light overcoat, hat in hand and smoking a
big meerschaum pipe, comes in by the door on the left.)
Oswald (standing in the doorway). Oh, I beg your pardon, I
thought you were in the office. (Comes in.) Good morning, Mr.
Manders.
Manders (staring at him). Well! It's most extraordinary.
Mrs. Alving. Yes, what do you think of him, Mr. Manders?
Manders. I-I-no, can it possibly be--?
Oswald. Yes, it really is the prodigal son, Mr. Manders.
Manders.
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