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Mrs. Alving.
How? What?
Oswald.
That you couldn't deny me anything.
Mrs. Alving.
My dear Oswald
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 musn'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.
