"What do I intend to do?" Rendel said, with a half smile, then unconsciously imparting a greater steadfastness into his expression, "broadly speaking, I intend to do—everything."
"Oh! well, there's hope for you still," Wentworth said, "if that is your intention. It's rather a large order, though."
"Well, as I have told you before," Rendel said, "I don't see why there should be any limit to one's intentions. The man who intends little is not likely to achieve much."
"That's all very well, and plausible enough, I dare say," said Wentworth, "but the way to achieve is not to begin by refusing all your chances."
"This is too delightful from you," said Rendel, "who never do anything at all."
"Not at all," said Wentworth. "It is on principle that I do nothing, in order to protest against other people doing too much. I wish to have an eight hours' day of elegant leisure, and to go about the world as an example of it. It would be just as inconsistent of me to accept a regular occupation as it is of you to refuse it."
"I have a very simple reason for refusing this," said Rendel more seriously, and he paused. "I am a married man."
"To be sure, my dear fellow," said Wentworth, "I have noticed it."
"My wife didn't want to go to Africa," said Rendel, "and there was an end of it."