But with you--do you see?--power only comes to you when you
are a mature man. Experiences, no matter how unpleasant
they are, will not change you now. You will not be
moved by this occurrence or that to distrust yourself,
or reconsider your methods, or form new resolutions.
Oh no! Power will be terrible in your hands, if people whom
you can injure provoke you to cruel courses----"
"Oh, dear--dear!" broke in Lady Cressage. "What a distressing
Mrs. Gummidge-Cassandra you are, Celia! Pray stop it!"
"No--she's right enough," said Thorpe, gravely.
"That's the kind of man I am."
He seemed so profoundly interested in the contemplation
of this portrait which had been drawn of him, that the others
respected his reflective silence. He sat for some moments,
idly fingering a fork on the table, and staring at a blotch
of vivid red projected through a decanter upon the cloth.
"It seems to me that's the only kind of man it's
worth while to be," he added at last, still speaking
with thoughtful deliberation. "There's nothing else
in the world so big as power--strength. If you have that,
you can get everything else. But if you have it,
and don't use it, then it rusts and decays on your hands.
It's like a thoroughbred horse. You can't keep it idle
in the stable. If you don't exercise it, you lose it.
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