dull."
"Not more dull than usual. Everything is dull after a certain time of life unless a man has made some fixed line for himself. Some men can eat and drink a great deal, but I haven't got stomach for that. Some men play cards; but I didn't begin early enough to win money, and I don't like losing it. The sort of things that a man does care for die away from him, and of course it becomes dull."
"I wonder you don't have a few horses in training."
"I hate horses, and I hate being cheated."
"They don't cheat me," said Mr. De Baron.
"Ah;—very likely. They would me. I think I made a mistake, De Baron, in not staying at home and looking after the property."
"It's not too late, now."
"Yes, it is. I could not do it. I could not remember the tenants' names, and I don't care about game. I can't throw myself into a litter of young foxes, or get into a fury of passion about pheasants' eggs. It's all beastly nonsense, but if a fellow could only bring himself to care about it that wouldn't matter. I don't care about anything."
"You read."
"No, I don't. I pretend to read—a little. If they had left me alone I think I should have had myself bled to death in a warm bath. But I won't now. That man's daughter shan't be Lady Brotherton if I can help it. I have rather liked being here on the whole, though why the d—— you should have a Germain impostor in your house, and a poor clergyman, I can't make out."