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those same daws belong more to Mr. Smitchenstault's school than to yours, Sir Level.

But you lose time, my dear Madam: come away, come away! a hundred pounds or two laid out on the ruin would make it a morsel for the finest Ducal park in the kingdom.

But we shall interrupt your instructive conversation.

Never mind: de poor good man! I always indulge de good peoples in dere little folly. [Exeunt all but

Such a craving for dissipation and change!—A curious busy imagination.—"Next to receiving a love-letter of one's own, nothing delights one like peeping into the love-letters of one's neighbours;"—the true spirit of intrigue! Ay, but receiving love-letters of one's own; that is the best. A married woman and love-letters! How should she think of love-letters? A bad, a suspicious, a dangerous disposition. I think I know myself; I am not prone to suspicion; but for those strange words, I should not have cared a maravedi for her painting that cursed flower. (Dashing his hand over the papers, and scattering them about.)