Count—Oh, yes, but that pleases all the peasants of the neighborhood, who adore me; between ourselves it is rather—Oh, my dear boy! if I had only been rich, what fine things I would have done! In France, people do not know how to spend money. In Russia it is quite another matter! Now, there you have people who understand how to give an entertainment. But then what can anybody do with two hundred thousand livres for an income?
André—Father, one can do exactly what you have done,—one can ruin himself.
Count—What! ruin himself?
André—Yes. When my mother died your personal fortune brought you, as you say, an income of two hundred thousand livres; and the money which my mother left to me, of which you have had the use until I came of age, amounted to a hundred and twenty thousand livres.
Count—I certainly have made an accounting to you in the matter.
André—A perfectly exact one, only—
Count—Only—?
André—Only in doing so you have seriously impaired your own capital.
Count—Why did you not say that to me at the time?
André—Because I too—I was thinking of nothing but spending money.