OSWALD. Hush!
REGINA. [Brings a tray with a half-bottle of champagne and two glasses,
which she sets on the table.] Shall I open it?
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
mustn'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, fills, 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?
MRS. ALVING. What do I think?
OSWALD. Yes; isn't she splendid?