He did not immure himself in the solid
structure of his social relations, but had made of them, so as to be able
to set it up afresh upon new foundations wherever a woman might take his
fancy, one of those collapsible tents which explorers carry about with
them. Any part of it which was not portable or could not be adapted to
some fresh pleasure he would discard as valueless, however enviable it
might appear to others. How often had his credit with a duchess, built up
of the yearly accumulation of her desire to do him some favour for which
she had never found an opportunity, been squandered in a moment by his
calling upon her, in an indiscreetly worded message, for a recommendation
by telegraph which would put him in touch at once with one of her agents
whose daughter he had noticed in the country, just as a starving man might
barter a diamond for a crust of bread. Indeed, when it was too late, he
would laugh at himself for it, for there was in his nature, redeemed by
many rare refinements, an element of clownishness. Then he belonged to
that class of intelligent men who have led a life of idleness, and who
seek consolation and, perhaps, an excuse in the idea, which their idleness
offers to their intelligence, of objects as worthy of their interest as
any that could be attained by art or learning, the idea that 'Life'
contains situations more interesting and more romantic than all the
romances ever written.
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