Mrs. Alving. Because I would ten times rather give up the
happiness of having you with me, sooner than that you should--
Oswald (standing still by the table). Tell me, mother--is it
really such a great happiness for you to have me at home?
Mrs. Alving. Can you ask?
Oswald (crumpling up a newspaper). I should have thought it would
have been pretty much the same to you whether I were here or
away.
Mrs. Alving. Have you the heart to say that to your mother,
Oswald?
Oswald. But you have been quite happy living without me so far.
Mrs. Alving. Yes, I have lived without you--that is true.
(A silence. The dusk falls by degrees. OSWALD walks restlessly up
and down. He has laid aside his cigar.) Oswald (stopping beside
MRS. ALVING). Mother, may I sit on the couch beside you?
Mrs. Alving. Of course, my dear boy.
Oswald (sitting down). Now I must tell you something mother.
Mrs. Alving (anxiously). What?
Oswald (staring in front of him). I can't bear it any longer.
Mrs. Alving. Bear what? What do you mean?
Oswald (as before).
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