OSWALD. No, thanks. I will do it myself.

[REGINA goes out again.]

MRS. ALVING. [Sits down by the table.] What was it you meant--that
I musn't deny you?

OSWALD. [Busy opening the bottle.] First let us have a glass--or
two.

[The cork pops; he pours wine into one glass, and is about
to pour it into the other.]

MRS. ALVING. [Holding her hand over it.] Thanks; not for me.

OSWALD. Oh! won't you? Then I will!

[He empties the glass, fells, and empties it again; then he
sits down by the table.]

MRS. ALVING. [In expectancy.] Well?

OSWALD. [Without looking at her.] Tell me--I thought you and Pastor
Manders seemed so odd--so quiet--at dinner to-day.

MRS. ALVING. Did you notice it?

OSWALD. Yes. H'm--[After a short silence.] Tell me: what do you
think of Regina?