RODERICK HUDSON
Rome I discovered I had ceased to care for her, and I honestly proposed that we should have no humbug about it. If you, on the contrary, thought there was something to be gained by having a little humbug I was willing to try it! I don't see that the situ ation is really changed. Mary is all she ever was—all the cardinal virtues, and if possible more than all. But she does n't, poor dear, in the least interest me—so what 's a fellow to do? Nothing does interest me—not really—of course, and how can I pretend she 's a brilliant exception? The only difference is that I don't care now whether she interests me or not. Of course marrying such a useless lout as I am is out of the question for any woman, and I should pay Mary a poor compliment to assume that she 's in a hurry to celebrate our nuptials."
"Oh, you'll do—you're in love!" Rowland not very logically answered. It must be confessed that this assertion was made for the sole purpose of hearing his companion deny it.
But it quite failed of its aim. Roderick gave a liberal shrug of his shoulders and an irresponsible toss of his head. "Call it what you please! I 'm past caring for the names of things."
Rowland had not only failed of logic, he had also failed of candour. He believed not the least little mite that Roderick was in love; he had only argued the false to learn the true. The "true" was then that this troubled youth was again, despite everything, in some degree under a charm, and that one could n't be so ministered to without either liking it or hating it.
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