much lately.

MRS. ALVING. Even a painter needs a little rest now and then.

MANDERS. No doubt, no doubt. And meanwhile he can be preparing
himself and mustering his forces for some great work.

OSWALD. Yes.--Mother, will dinner soon be ready?

MRS. ALVING. In less than half an hour. He has a capital appetite,
thank God.

MANDERS. And a taste for tobacco, too.

OSWALD. I found my father's pipe in my room--

MANDERS. Aha--then that accounts for it!

MRS. ALVING. For what?

MANDERS. When Oswald appeared there, in the doorway, with the pipe
in his mouth, I could have sworn I saw his father, large as life.

OSWALD. No, really?

MRS. ALVING. Oh, how can you say so? Oswald takes after me.

MANDERS. Yes, but there is an expression about the corners of the
mouth--something about the lips--that reminds one exactly of
Alving: at any rate, now that he is smoking.