RODERICK HUDSON
She flung herself on his neck for gratitude. "We 'll go to-morrow! The Lord 's very good to me!"
Mary Garland said nothing to this; but she looked at Rowland, and her eyes struck him as containing a deep, an alarmed appeal. He observed it with exultation, but even without it he would have broken into an eager protest.
"Are you serious, Roderick?" he demanded.
"Serious? Of course not! How can a man with a crack in his brain be serious, how can a damned fool reason? But I 'm not jesting either; I can no more crack jokes than utter oracles!"
"Are you willing to go home?"
"Willing? God forbid! I 'm simply amenable to force; if my mother chooses to take me I won't resist. I can't! I 've come to that!"
"Let me resist then," said Rowland. "Go home as you 're now acting and talking? I can't stand by and see it."
It may have been true that Roderick had lost his sense of humour, but he scratched his head with a gesture of comic effect. "You are a funny man. I should think I would disgust you horribly."
"Stay another year," Rowland simply said.
"Doing nothing?"
"You shall do more than you 've bargained for yet. I 'm responsible for your doing it."
"To whom are you responsible?"
Rowland, before replying, glanced at Mary Garland, and his glance made her speak quickly. "Not to me!"
"I 'm responsible to myself," he substituted.
459
