MRS. ALVING. I want my boy to be happy--that is what I want. He
sha'n't go on brooding over things [To REGINA, who appears at the
door:] More champagne--a large bottle. [REGINA goes.]

OSWALD. Mother!

MRS. ALVING. Do you think we don't know how to live here at home?

OSWALD. Isn't she splendid to look at? How beautifully she's built!
And so thoroughly healthy!

MRS. ALVING. [Sits by the table.] Sit down, Oswald; let us talk
quietly together.

OSWALD. [Sits.] I daresay you don't know, mother, that I owe Regina
some reparation.

MRS. ALVING. You!

OSWALD. For a bit of thoughtlessness, or whatever you like to call
it--very innocent, at any rate. When I was home last time--

MRS. ALVING. Well?

OSWALD. She used often to ask me about Paris, and I used to tell
her one thing and another. Then I recollect I happened to say to
her one day, "Shouldn't you like to go there yourself?"

MRS. ALVING. Well?