OSWALD. Well, then, the Lost Sheep Found.
MRS. ALVING. Oswald is thinking of the time when you were so much opposed to his becoming a painter.
MANDERS. To our human eyes many a step seems dubious, which afterwards proves—[Wrings his hand.] But first of all, welcome, welcome home! Do not think, my dear Oswald—I suppose I may call you by your Christian name?
OSWALD. What else should you call me?
MANDERS. Very good. What I wanted to say was this, my dear Oswald--you must not think that I utterly condemn the artist's calling. I have no doubt there are many who can keep their inner self unharmed in that profession, as in any other.
OSWALD. Let us hope so.
MRS. ALVING. [Beaming with delight.] I know one who has kept both his inner and his outer self unharmed. Just look at him, Mr. Manders.
OSWALD. [Moves restlessly about the room.] Yes, yes, my dear mother; let's say no more about it.
MANDERS. Why, certainly—that is undeniable. And you have begun to make a name for yourself already. The newspapers have often spoken of you, most favourably. Just lately, by-the-bye, I fancy I haven't seen your name quite so often.
OSWALD. [Up in the conservatory.] I haven't been able to paint so much lately.