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Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906

"Ghosts"

No, never; that is just what I won't endure!
I dare not think what it would mean to linger on like that for
years--to get old and grey like that. And you might die before I
did. (Sits down in MRS. ALVING'S chair.) Because it doesn't
necessarily have a fatal end quickly, the doctor said; he called
it a kind of softening of the brain--or something of that sort.
(Smiles mournfully.) I think that expression sounds so nice. It
always makes me think of cherry-coloured velvet curtains--
something that is soft to stroke.
Mrs. Alving (with a scream). Oswald!
Oswald (jumps up and walks about the room). And now you have
taken Regina from me! If I had only had her, she would have given
me a helping hand, I know.
Mrs. Alving (going up to him). What do you mean, my darling boy?
Is there any help in the world I would not be willing to give
you?
Oswald. When I had recovered from the attack I had abroad, the
doctor told me that when it recurred--and it will recur--there
would be no more hope.
Mrs. Alving. And he was heartless enough to--
Oswald.


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