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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.
Mrs. Alving.
Not in the least. Oswald has rather a clerical curve about his mouth, I think.
Manders.
Yes, yes; some of my colleagues have much the same expression.
