Mrs. Alving.
But put your pipe away, my dear boy; I won't have smoking in here.
Oswald.
[Does so.] By all means. I only wanted to try it; for I once smoked it when I was a child.
Mrs. Alving. You?
Oswald.
Yes. I was quite small at the time. I recollect I came up to father's room one evening when he was in great spirits.
Mrs. Alving. Oh, you can't recollect anything of those times.
Oswald.
Yes, I recollect it distinctly. He took me on his knee, and gave me the pipe. "Smoke, boy," he said; "smoke away, boy!" And I smoked as hard as I could, until I felt I was growing quite pale, and the perspiration stood in great drops on my forehead. Then he burst out laughing heartily
Manders.
That was most extraordinary.
Mrs. Alving.
My dear friend, it's only something Oswald has dreamt.
Oswald.
No, mother, I assure you I didn't dream it. For—don't you remember this?—you came and
