MRS. ALVING. Oh, I know very well what sort of a father he has been to
her. No! She shall never go to him with my goodwill.
MANDERS. [Rising.] My dear lady, don't take the matter so warmly. You
sadly misjudge poor Engstrand. You seem to be quite terrified--
MRS. ALVING. [More quietly.] It makes no difference. I have taken Regina
into my house, and there she shall stay. [Listens.] Hush, my dear Mr.
Manders; say no more about it. [Her face lights up with gladness.]
Listen! there is Oswald coming downstairs. Now we'll think of no one but
him.
[OSWALD ALVING, in a light overcoat, hat in hand, and smoking a large
meerschaum, enters by the door on the left; he stops in the doorway.]
OSWALD. Oh, I beg your pardon; I thought you were in the study. [Comes
forward.] Good-morning, Pastor Manders.
MANDERS. [Staring.] Ah--! How strange--!
MRS. ALVING. Well now, what do you think of him, Mr. Manders?
MANDERS. I--I--can it really be--?
OSWALD. Yes, it's really the Prodigal Son, sir.