OSWALD. [Stands at the window and looks out.] Is she gone?
MRS. ALVING. Yes.
OSWALD. [Murmuring aside to himself.] I think it was a mistake, this.
MRS. ALVING. [Goes up behind him and lays her hands on his shoulders.]
Oswald, my dear boy--has it shaken you very much?
OSWALD. [Turns his face towards her.] All that about father, do you
mean?
MRS. ALVING. Yes, about your unhappy father. I am so afraid it may have
been too much for you.
OSWALD. Why should you fancy that? Of course it came upon me as a great
surprise; but it can make no real difference to me.
MRS. ALVING. [Draws her hands away.] No difference! That your father was
so infinitely unhappy!