lawful wife, so that no one should know how recklessly she had
carried on with the stranger.

Manders. That was all very kindly done. The only thing I cannot
justify was your bringing yourself to accept the money.

Engstrand. Money? I? Not a farthing.

Manders (to MRS. ALVING, in a questioning tare). But--

Engstrand. Ah, yes!--wait a bit; I remember now. Joanna did have
a trifle of money, you are quite right. But I didn't want to know
anything about that. "Fie," I said, "on the mammon of
unrighteousness, it's the price of your sin; as for this tainted
gold"--or notes, or whatever it was--"we will throw it back in
the American's face," I said. But he had gone away and
disappeared on the stormy seas, your reverence.

Manders. Was that how it was, my good fellow?

Engstrand. It was, sir. So then Joanna and I decided that the
money should go towards the child's bringing-up, and that's what
became of it; and I can give a faithful account of every single
penny of it.

Manders. This alters the complexion of the affair very
considerably.

Engstrand. That's how it was, your reverence. And I make bold to
say that I have been a good father to Regina--as far as was in my