“Every time.”
“Is that to happen with all my—I mean would that happen to all his high resolutions?”
“Oh certainly—certainly. It’s the Rossmore of it.”
“Then this creature was fortunate to die! Suppose, for argument’s sake, that I was a Rossmore, and—”
“It can’t be done.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not a supposable case. To be a Rossmore at your age, you’d have to be a fool, and you’re not a fool. And you’d have to be a Wobbler, whereas anybody that is an expert in reading character can see at a glance that when you set your foot down once, it’s there to stay; and earthquake can’t wobble it.” He added to himself, “That’s enough to say to him, but it isn’t half strong enough for the facts. The more I observe him, now, the more remarkable I find him. It is the strongest face I have ever examined. There is almost superhuman firmness here, immovable purpose, iron steadfastness of will. A most extraordinary young man.”
He presently said, aloud:
“Some time I want to ask your advice about a little matter, Mr. Tracy. You see, I’ve got that young lord’s remains—my goodness, how you jump!”
“Oh, it’s nothing, pray go on. You’ve got his remains?”