Chignon. De true Mademoiselle Alton, whom you charge me to give your letter—she open it—she turn pale—den red—den confuse—den kiss your name—den write, and bid me fly.
Lord G. Confusion on confusion, what does all this mean? explain.
Cliff. You must pardon me, I am disconcerted—confounded—thunderstruck —This letter is indeed of a different nature, from that I expected—I am more interested in Miss Alton's fate than your lordship—my perplexity is not to be endured; friend, come with me instantly.
[Exeunt Clifford and Chignon.
Lord G. Mystery and torture! what am I to collect from this? He interested in the fate of Miss Alton? he her former acquaintance?
Sir C. Why not—and her dupe also?
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Is Mr. Clifford gone, sir?
Lord G. [Impatiently.] Who wants him?
Serv. A chairman with a letter, he will not deliver to a servant.