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290
Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
189
“Without
pretending
to
be
quite
sure
what
a
skunk
is,”
said
the
Duke,
“I
take
you
to
be
all
that
it
isn’t.
And
the
high
esteem
in
which
I
hold
you
is
the
measure
for
me
of
the
loss
that
your
death
would
be
to
America
and
to
Oxford.”
Oover
blushed.
“Duke”
he
said
“that’s
a
bully
testimonial.
But
don’t
worry.
America
can
turn
out
millions
just
like
me,
and
Oxford
can
have
as
many
of
them
as
she
can
hold.
On
the
other
hand,
how
many
of
YOU
can
be
turned
out,
as
per
sample,
in
England?
Yet
you
choose
to
destroy
yourself.
You
avail
yourself
of
the
Unwritten
Law.
And
you’re
right,
Sir.
Love
transcends
all.”
“But
does
it?
What
if
I
told
you
I
had
changed
my
mind?”
“Then,
Duke,”
said
Oover,
slowly,
“I
should
believe
that
all
those
yarns
I
used
to
hear
about
the
British
aristocracy
were
true,
after
all.
I
should
aver
that
you
were
not
a
white
man.
Leading
us
on
like
that,
and
then--Say,
Duke!
Are
you
going
to
die
to-day,
or
not?”
“As
a
matter
of
fact,
I
am,
but--”
“Shake!”
“But--”
Oover
wrung
the
Duke’s
hand,
and
was
passing
on.
“Stay!”
he
was
adjured.
“Sorry,
unable.
It’s
just
turning
eleven
o’clock,
and
I’ve
a
lecture.
While
life
lasts,
I’m
bound
to
respect
Rhodes’
intentions.”
The
conscientious
Scholar
hurried
away.
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