And as for giving his beloved pictures to the race which adored Landseer, Edwin Long, and Leighton-- the idea nauseated him.
He must go and see Duncan Farll! And explain! Yes, explain that he was not dead.
Then he had a vision of Duncan Farll's hard, stupid face, and impenetrable steel head; and of himself being kicked out of the house, or delivered over to a policeman, or in some subtler way unimaginably insulted.

Could he confront Duncan Farll?
Was a hundred and forty thousand pounds and the dignity of the British nation worth the bearding of Duncan Farll?
No! His distaste for Duncan Farll amounted to more than a hundred and forty millions of pounds and the dignity of whole planets.
He felt that he could never bring himself to meet Duncan Farll.

Why, Duncan might shove him into a lunatic asylum, might...! Still he must act.
Then it was that occurred to him the brilliant notion of making a clean breast of it to the Dean.

He had not the pleasure of the Dean's personal acquaintance.

The Dean was an abstraction; certainly much more abstract than Priam Farll.