He would rather walk most of the way.
The only way in which he could possibly live up to such an income must be by changing his entire mode of life--a house, somewhere in a great city, horses, servants, and even a wife--Claudius laughed for the first time in many months, a deep Homeric laugh--they would all help him to get rid of his money.

But then, a life like that--pshaw! impossible.

He was sick of it before beginning, then what would he feel after a month of it?
The problem faced him in the dark, like an unsolved equation, staring out black and white before his eyes, or like an unfinished game of chess when one goes to bed after five or six hours' play.

Something he must decide, because it was his nature to decide always, before he left a subject, on some course of thought.

Meanwhile he had been so little disturbed by the whole business that, in spite of his uncle's death, and a million and a half of money, he was hungry and thirsty.