"What's the use of being brought into the world, fed, clothed, and educated, if you're of no use or consequence to anybody?" he observed to Mary Thorn. "Nobody needs me to help solve their problems. I have none of my own--none that amount to much. That was all attended to before I was born." "You don't know how lucky you are," Mary retorted. "You can do whatever you want to do. You've got everything that most men have to struggle for all their lives--and then don't get." "But I don't seem to want to do anything that amounts to a hill of beans," Rod replied. "It's like a football game against a third-rate team. No fun in a walkaway. I have the instincts of a--a--what shall I say? Buccaneer? Pioneer? Adventurer? I don't see much chance for anything but a money-making adventure. I don't need to do that, even if it were to my taste. I couldn't get much kick out of making two dollars grow where only one flourished. Can't you show me a windmill or two, Mary?" he ended whimsically. "I'll mount Rosinante and knock 'em over." "Every avenue is open for you," Mary declared. "You can map out any sort of career you choose." "What, for instance?" he inquired. "There has to be a motive. Most of 'em are financial. There's the law, and science, and the arts. I don't warm up to a career as a matter of duty. I've talked to the governor, seeking light in my darkness. He blandly observes, 'Suit yourself, my boy. There's really no hurry,' and goes on reading his book or paper, as the case may be. I'm inclined to believe the radicals at school were right. They claimed that economic urges lay at the root of all purposeful action in the world of affairs. Hence, I lack the strongest motive of all to _force_ me to action." "Haven't you any secret ambition of any sort whatever?" Mary inquired. Rod reflected a second. "Well, I won't commit myself," he replied. "Have you?" "Yes," she answered demurely. "To be successful, beautiful and beloved." "Successful--what do you define as success?" "Act of succeeding; consequence, issue, outcome or result of an undertaking, whether good or bad," she laughed. "Oh, hang Webster," he returned. "What's your real, honest-to-goodness idea of success? What do you want most of all? What do you want to do? What do you live for? What's your heart set on as an objective?" And Mary, sobered a little by the sudden earnestness of his tone, could only shake her head. "I'm not quite sure," she confessed. "There must be something over the hill--but I don't know what it is." "Funny," he ruminated. "We're both in the same boat."