Sir J. B. Why, pretty well; how are you?—A damned impudent fellow!
[Aside.
Lack. And how have you left all friends in a—a—a—Throgmorton Street?
Sir J. B. Throgmorton Street!
Lack. That is—I mean—You're come to Fontainbleau, and just arrived:—my heart warmed at the sight of my countryman, for I'm English too,—a little unfortunate, but——
Sir J. B. You're poor, eh?
Lack. Why, sir,—I have had money—
Sir J. B. And what did you do with it?
Lack. Sir, I laid it out in experience.
Sir J. B. Oh! then, I suppose, now, you're a very cunning fellow.