OSWALD. [Looks fixedly before him.] For I can't go on hiding it any longer.
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?