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conceal nothing from thee. (Going to the door to see if it he closely shut.)

Good heaven! what is it you would tell me?

The fatal progress of a ruined unfortunate man.

I know you are unfortunate.

Hold thy peace, and hear me out.—Naturally thoughtless and profuse, and fond of the pitiful distinction that expense bestows, I dissipated an easy fortune which ought to have been thine, Edmond.

Nay, nay! take no thought of that: let it go. It is but a feather in the air; and may light where it lists.

Having squandered it, as I said, that false friend Robinair

Is he false?

False, base, and treacherous.