RODERICK HUDSON
eye should instinctively seek the frontal indications. Could n't you strengthen them a little?"
Roderick, for all answer, tossed the sheet back over the statue. "Oblige me, sir," he said, "I beg you to oblige me. Never mention that thing again."
"Never mention it? Why, my dear sir!—"
"Never mention it. It 's a base fraud."
"Base? My grand conception?"
"Yours indeed!" cried Roderick. "It's none of mine. I disown it."
"Disown it if you please," said Mr. Leavenworth, now sternly enough, "but finish it first!"
"I would much rather smash it!" Roderick returned.
"This is petulant folly, sir. You must keep your engagements."
"I made no engagement. A sculptor is n't a tailor, and I did n't measure you for a pair of trousers. Did you ever hear of inspiration? Mine's dead! And it 's no laughing matter. You yourself killed it."
"I—I—killed your inspiration?" cried Mr. Leavenworth with the accent of righteous wrath. "You're a very ungrateful young man! My desire has been that you should feel yourself encouraged and so far as possible inspired."
"I appreciate your kindness, and I don't wish to be uncivil. But your interest is somehow fatal to me. I object to your interest. I can't work for you."
"I call this gross ill-humour, my good sir!" said Mr. Leavenworth, as if he had found the damning word.
"Oh, I 'm in a perfectly infernal humour!" Roderick now quite cheerfully answered.
304
