MRS. ALVING. Yes; in my superstitious awe for duty and the proprieties, I lied to my boy, year after year. Oh, what a coward—what a coward I have been!
MANDERS. You have established a happy illusion in your son's heart, Mrs. Alving; and assuredly you ought not to undervalue it.
MRS. ALVING. H'm; who knows whether it is so happy after all—? But, at any rate, I will not have any tampering with Regina. He shall not go and wreck the poor girl's life.
MANDERS. No; good God—that would be terrible!
MRS. ALVING. If I knew he was in earnest, and that it would be for his happiness—
MANDERS. What? What then?
MRS. ALVING. But it couldn't be; for unfortunately Regina is not the right sort of woman.
MANDERS. Well, what then? What do you mean?
MRS. ALVING. If I weren't such a pitiful coward, I should say to him, "Marry her, or make what arrangement you please, only let us have nothing underhand about it."
MANDERS. Merciful heavens, would you let them marry! Anything so dreadful—! so unheard of—