RODERICK HUDSON
I think it can be done," Singleton went on. "If I find it can be done I shall really be quite proud of it; as an artist, of course I mean, don't you know? Do you know I 've some nine hundred sketches? I shall live in my portfolio. And so long as one 's not in Rome, pray what does it matter where one is? But how I shall envy all you Romans—you and Mr. Gloriani and Mr. Hudson in particular."
"Don't envy Hudson; he has nothing to envy," Rowland could n't help risking.
Singleton wondered—but it might be a harmless jest. "Why, is n't he going to be the great man of our time? And is n't it quite a treat to think that it 's we who have turned him out?"
Rowland's heart was full, and the tender touch of this personage made it overflow a little where a harder knock might have steadied it. "Between ourselves, since you ask, he has rather disappointed me."
Singleton stared open-mouthed. "Dear me then, what did you expect?"
"Verily," Rowland said to himself, "what did I expect?"
"I confess," Singleton pursued, "I can't judge him rationally. He fascinates me; he 's the sort of man one makes one's hero of."
"Strictly speaking, he 's not a positive ideal hero," Rowland remarked.
Singleton looked intensely grave, and with almost scared eyes, "Is there anything amiss with him, any thing there should n't be?" he timidly asked. Then as Rowland hesitated to reply he quickly added: "Please, if there is, don't tell me! I want to know no
415
