Ghosts by Henrik Ibsen
page 80 of 126 (63%)
page 80 of 126 (63%)
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OSWALD. [In the dining room.] I'm only finishing my cigar.
MRS. ALVING. I thought you had gone for a little walk. OSWALD. In such weather as this? [A glass clinks. MRS. ALVING leaves the door open, and sits down with her knitting on the sofa by the window.] OSWALD. Wasn't that Pastor Manders that went out just now? MRS. ALVING. Yes; he went down to the Orphanage. OSWALD. H'm. [The glass and decanter clink again.] MRS. ALVING. [With a troubled glance.] Dear Oswald, you should take care of that liqueur. It is strong. OSWALD. It keeps out the damp. MRS. ALVING. Wouldn't you rather come in here, to me? OSWALD. I mayn't smoke in there. MRS. ALVING. You know quite well you may smoke cigars. OSWALD. Oh, all right then; I'll come in. Just a tiny drop more first. There! [He comes into the room with his cigar, and shuts the door after him. A short silence.] Where has the pastor gone to? |
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