Page:The Novels and Tales of Henry James, Volume 1 (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1907).djvu/456

 "Oh, my dear boy," she remonstrated, "you must n't say that before us all here—before Mary, before Mr. Mallet!"

"Mary—Mr. Mallet?" He took up these names as after a long disuse and seemed to look at them as at objects of obscure application. Then he released himself from his mother's locked clasp and turned away, leaning his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. There was a silence, Rowland's share in which was the intensity of his consciousness of the young woman at the window.

"Why should I stand on ceremony with Mary and Mr. Mallet?" Roderick presently demanded. "Mary pretends to believe I 'm a great man, and if she believes it as she ought 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!' Mrs. Hudson quavered. "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 had got up and he began to walk about the room; Rowland felt how as never yet there was something reckless in him to count with. He observed further, with all anxiety, that Mrs. Hudson, without a sense of the delicate ground under her feet, was disposed to chide him endearingly, to show the intimacy of her tenderness. He foresaw that she would bring down the hovering thunderbolt on her head.

"Ah, in God's name," Roderick in fact broke out, "don't remind me of my obligations! It 's 422