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Ghosts by Henrik Ibsen
page 80 of 126 (63%)
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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