Urban book

His love of gold is
insatiable: he dreams of nothing else. He has caused me much pain,
insisting that I never should see you again, and that I should
surrender to him all your wealth. But he fears me, and he fears your
return much more."
"Is he well in health?"
"Not ill, but still evidently wasting away,--like a candle burnt down
to the socket, flitting and flaring alternately; at one time almost
imbecile, at others, talking and planning as if he were in the vigour
of his youth. O what a curse it must be--that love of money! I
believe--I'm shocked to say so, Philip,--that that poor old man,
now on the brink of a grave into which he can take nothing, would
sacrifice your life and mine to have possession of those guilders, the
whole of which I would barter for one kiss from thee."
"Indeed, Amine, has he then attempted anything in my absence?"
"I dare not speak my thoughts, Philip, nor will I venture
upon surmises, which it were difficult to prove. I watch him
carefully;--but talk no more about him.


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