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—the health of the suffering angel—every minute particular since I saw him last. (Folds it up.) Who waits there?

Give this to my servant; it is for the mistress of the house where Master Munhaunslet lodges. He must go with it immediately, and wait for an answer.

And bring the answer here, my Lady?

Yes.—No; to the exhibition of antiques in Piccadilly. No, no! to the lecture-room of Mr. Clutterbuck; there will be friends there almost as anxious as myself to hear how the little angel does.

Mr. Clutterbuck must be a superlative critic, indeed, to attract your Ladyship at so anxious a moment as the present.

Have you not heard him? You are incapable of appreciating two lines of our immortal bard, if you have not attended Mr. Clutterbuck.

I am in very truth, then, an ignorant fellow; and so are you, Clermont, I believe.