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.

The Duke wandered down the High, taking counsel with himself. He was
ashamed of having so utterly forgotten the mischief he had wrought at
large. At dawn he had vowed to undo it. Undo it he must. But the task
was not a simple one now. If he could say "Behold, I take back my word.
I spurn Miss Dobson, and embrace life," it was possible that his example
would suffice. But now that he could only say "Behold, I spurn Miss
Dobson, and will not die for her, but I am going to commit suicide, all
the same," it was clear that his words would carry very little force.
Also, he saw with pain that they placed him in a somewhat ludicrous
position. His end, as designed yesterday, had a large and simple
grandeur. So had his recantation of it. But this new compromise between
the two things had a fumbled, a feeble, an ignoble look. It seemed to
combine all the disadvantages of both courses. It stained his honour
without prolonging his life. Surely, this was a high price to pay for
snubbing Zuleika... Yes, he must revert without more ado to his first
scheme. He must die in the manner that he had blazoned forth. And he
must do it with a good grace, none knowing he was not glad; else the
action lost all dignity. True, this was no way to be a saviour. But only
by not dying at all could he have set a really potent example.... He
remembered the look that had come into Oover's eyes just now at the
notion of his unfaith. Perhaps he would have been the mock, not the
saviour, of Oxford. Better dishonour than death, maybe. But, since
die he must, he must die not belittling or tarnishing the name of
Tanville-Tankerton.

Within these bounds, however, he must put forth his full might to avert
the general catastrophe--and to punish Zuleika nearly well enough, after
all, by intercepting that vast nosegay from her outstretched hands
and her distended nostrils. There was no time to be lost, then. But he
wondered, as he paced the grand curve between St. Mary's and Magdalen
Bridge, just how was he to begin?

Down the flight of steps from Queen's came lounging an average
undergraduate.

"Mr. Smith," said the Duke, "a word with you."

"But my name is not Smith," said the young man.

"Generically it is," replied the Duke. "You are Smith to all intents
and purposes. That, indeed, is why I address you.