There was a
silence; Rowland said nothing because he was watching Miss Garland. "Why
should I stand on ceremony with Mary and Mr. Mallet?" Roderick presently
added. "Mary pretends to believe I 'm a fine fellow, and if she believes
it as she ought to, nothing I can say will alter her opinion. Mallet
knows I 'm a hopeless humbug; so I need n't mince my words with him."
"Ah, my dear, don't use such dreadful language!" said Mrs. Hudson. "Are
n't we all devoted to you, and proud of you, and waiting only to hear
what you want, so that we may do it?"
Roderick got up, and began to walk about the room; he was evidently in a
restless, reckless, profoundly demoralized condition. Rowland felt that
it was literally true that he did not care a straw for anything, but
he observed with anxiety that Mrs. Hudson, who did not know on what
delicate ground she was treading, was disposed to chide him caressingly,
as a mere expression of tenderness. He foresaw that she would bring down
the hovering thunderbolt on her head.
"In God's name," Roderick cried, "don't remind me of my obligations! It
's intolerable to me, and I don't believe it 's pleasant to Mallet.
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