“I can imagine nothing you should n’t talk to me about,” said Mary.
“You are not afraid?” he demanded, sharply, looking at her.
She turned away abruptly, with lowered eyes, hesitating a moment. “Anything you think I should hear, I will hear,” she said. And then she returned to her place at the window and took up her work.
“I have had a great blow,” said Roderick. “I was a great ass, but it does n’t make the blow any easier to bear.”
“Mr. Mallet, tell me what Roderick means!” said Mrs. Hudson, who had found her voice, in a tone more peremptory than Rowland had ever heard her use.
“He ought to have told you before,” said Roderick. “Really, Rowland, if you will allow me to say so, you ought! You could have given a much better account of all this than I myself; better, especially, in that it would have been more lenient to me. You ought to have let them down gently; it would have saved them a great deal of pain. But you always want to keep things so smooth! Allow me to say that it ‘s very weak of you.”
“I hereby renounce such weakness!” said Rowland.
“Oh, what is it, sir; what is it?” groaned Mrs. Hudson, insistently.
“It ‘s what Roderick says: he ‘s a failure!”
Mary Garland, on hearing this declaration, gave Rowland a single glance and then rose, laid down her work, and walked rapidly out of the room. Mrs. Hudson tossed her head and timidly bristled. “This from you, Mr. Mallet!” she said with an injured air which Rowland found harrowing.