Oswald.
I demanded it of him. I told him I had preparations to make——[He smiles cunningly.] And so I had. [He takes a little box from his inner breast pocket and opens it.] Mother, do you see this?
Mrs. Alving.
What is it?
Oswald.
Morphia.
Mrs. Alving.
[Looks at him horror-struck.] Oswald—my boy!
Oswald.
I’ve scraped together twelve pilules——