MRS. ALVING. Yes; he went down to the Orphanage.
OSWALD. H'm. [The glass and decanter clink again.]
MRS. ALVING. [With a troubled glance.] Dear Oswald, you should take care of that liqueur. It is strong.
OSWALD. It keeps out the damp.
MRS. ALVING. Wouldn't you rather come in here, to me?
OSWALD. I mayn't smoke in there.
MRS. ALVING. You know quite well you may smoke cigars.
OSWALD. Oh, all right then; I'll come in. Just a tiny drop more first. There! [He comes into the room with his cigar, and shuts the door after him. A short silence.] Where has the pastor gone to?
MRS. ALVING. I have just told you; he went down to the Orphanage.
OSWALD. Oh, yes; so you did.