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Mrs. Alving.
Hiding what? What is it?
Oswald.
[As before.] I could never bring myself to write to you about it; and since I've come home
Mrs. Alving.
[Seizes him by the arm.] Oswald, what is the matter?
Oswald.
Both yesterday and to-day I have tried to put the thoughts away from me—to cast them off; but it's no use.
Mrs. Alving.
[Rising.] Now you must tell me everything, Oswald!
Oswald.
[Draws her down to the sofa again.] Sit still; and then I will try to tell you.—I complained of fatigue after my journey
Mrs. Alving.
Well? What then?
Oswald.
But it isn't that that is the matter with me; not any ordinary fatigue
Mrs. Alving.
[Tries to jump up.] You are not ill, Oswald?
Oswald.
[Draws her down again.] Sit still, mother. Do
