Mrs. Alving.
[Drumming on the window-frame.] I ought never to have concealed the facts of Alving's life. But at that time I dared not do anything else—I was afraid, partly on my own account. I was such a coward.
Manders.
A coward?
Mrs. Alving.
If people had come to know anything, they would have said—"Poor man! with a runaway wife, no wonder he kicks over the traces."
Manders.
Such remarks might have been made with a certain show of right.
Mrs. Alving.
[Looking steadily at him.] If I were what I ought to be, I should go to Oswald and say, "Listen, my boy: your father led a vicious life"
Manders.
Merciful heavens!
Mrs. Alving.
and then I should tell him all I have told you—every word of it.
Manders.
You shock me unspeakably, Mrs. Alving.
Mrs. Alving.
Yes; I know that. I know that very well. I myself am shocked at the idea. [Goes away from the window.] I am such a coward.
