Although, I must admit, lately I have not seen your name so
often.
Oswald (going towards the conservatory). I haven't done so much
painting just lately.
Mrs. Alving. An artist must take a rest sometimes, like other
people.
Manders. Of course, of course. At those times the artist is
preparing and strengthening himself for a greater effort.
Oswald. Yes. Mother, will dinner soon be ready?
Mrs. Alving. In half an hour. He has a fine appetite, thank
goodness.
Manders. And a liking for tobacco too.
Oswald. I found father's pipe in the room upstairs, and--
Manders. Ah, that is what it was!
Mrs. Alving. What?
Manders. When Oswald came in at that door with the pipe in his
mouth, I thought for the moment it was his father in the flesh.
Oswald. Really?
Mrs. Alving. How can you say so! Oswald takes after me.
Manders. Yes, but there is an expression about the corners of his
mouth--something about the lips--that reminds me so exactly of
Mr. Alving--especially when he smokes.
Mrs. Alving. I don't think so at all.
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