Old Man. Can I speak to him? if you please—
Mrs. D. He is—he is—not here.
Old Man [mildly]. But he will come back? [looking at them] or is he dead? [Tenderly] Oh, if he be dead, he is happy, and I will not interrupt his peace.
Enter LEWIS hastily, kisses Mrs. DRAVE's hand.
Lewis. Too true, Madam, too true.—What had become of me but for your advice?—You are my good angel, Augusta; you will rather pity than hate me. [Perceiving the Old Man] What Old man is that?
Mrs. D. Somebody in distress, I fear—he wants to see my husband.
Lewis [giving him a purse]. There, my friend, take that.
Old Man. I do not want money.
Lewis [hastily]. Well, well, but pray go.
Old Man. I want but little, Sir.