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Book, page 231 / 298 . . . "The idol has come sliding down from its pedestal" -- the Duke remembered these words spoken yesterday by Zuleika. Yes, at the mo- ment when he slid down, he, too, was lost. For him, master-dandy, the common arena was no place. What had he to do with love? He was ZULEIKA DOBSON 277 an utter fool at it. Byron had at least had some fun out of it. What fun had <i>he</i> had? Last night, he had forgotten to kiss Zuleika when he held her by the wrists. To-day it had been as much as he could do to let poor little Katie kiss his hand. Better be vulgar with Byron than a noodle with Dorset! he bitterly reflected. . . Still, noodledom was nearer than vulgarity to dandyism. It was a less flagrant lapse. And he had over Byron this further advantage: his noodledom was not a mat- ter of common knowledge; whereas Byron's vul- garity had ever needed to be in the glare of the footlights of Europe. The world would say of him that he laid down his life for a woman. De- plorable somersault? But nothing evident save this in his whole life was faulty. . . The one other thing that might be carped at -- the partisan speech he made in the Lords -- had exquisitely justified itself by its result. For it was as a Knight of the Garter that he had set the perfect seal on his dandyism. Yes, he reflected, it was on the day when first he donned the most grandiose of all costumes, and wore it grandlier than ever yet in history had it been worn, than ever would it be worn hereafter, flaunting the robes with a grace unparalleled and inimitable, and lending, as it were, to the very insignia a glory beyond their own, that he once and for all fulfilled him- self, doer of that which he had been sent into the world to do.
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