[Doubtfully shrugging his shoulders.] Well!
Mrs. Brauer.
[Alarmed.] He is not worse, I hope?
Pastor.
At the age of eighty, my dear lady, one cannot be said to be growing stronger.
Brauer.
Ah, I see, Pastor, you are somewhat of a philosopher. Will you take something?
Pastor.
You are very kind. A good glass of brandy is half the morning sun.