(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.
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