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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 291/598
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And
so
now
he
altered
his
tone
greatly
and
said
:
"
But
listen
,
Bert
.
Please
do
n't
be
angry
with
me
.
You
talk
as
though
I
did
n't
have
any
troubles
in
connection
with
all
this
,
either
.
You
do
n't
know
what
this
may
be
going
to
cost
me
before
I
'm
through
with
it
,
and
you
do
n't
seem
to
care
much
.
I
know
you
're
worried
and
all
that
,
but
what
about
me
?
I
'm
doing
the
very
best
I
can
now
,
Bert
,
with
all
I
have
to
think
about
.
And
wo
n't
you
just
be
patient
now
until
the
third
,
anyhow
?
Please
do
.
I
promise
to
write
you
and
if
I
do
n't
,
I
'll
call
you
up
every
other
day
.
Will
that
be
all
right
?
But
I
certainly
do
n't
want
you
to
be
using
my
name
like
you
did
a
while
ago
.
That
will
lead
to
trouble
,
sure
.
Please
do
n't
.
And
when
I
call
again
,
I
'll
just
say
it
's
Mr.
Baker
asking
,
see
,
and
you
can
say
it
's
any
one
you
like
afterwards
.
And
then
,
if
by
any
chance
anything
should
come
up
that
would
stop
our
starting
exactly
on
the
third
,
why
you
can
come
back
here
if
you
want
to
,
see
,
or
somewhere
near
here
,
and
then
we
can
start
as
soon
as
possible
after
that
.
"
His
tone
was
so
pleading
and
soothing
,
infused
as
it
was
--
but
because
of
his
present
necessity
only
with
a
trace
of
that
old
tenderness
and
seeming
helplessness
which
,
at
times
,
had
quite
captivated
Roberta
,
that
even
now
it
served
to
win
her
to
a
bizarre
and
groundless
gratitude
.
So
much
so
that
at
once
she
had
replied
,
warmly
and
emotionally
,
even
:
"
Oh
,
no
,
dear
.
I
do
n't
want
to
do
anything
like
that
.
You
know
I
do
n't
.
It
's
just
because
things
are
so
bad
as
they
are
with
me
and
I
ca
n't
help
myself
now
.
You
know
that
,
Clyde
,
do
n't
you
?
I
ca
n't
help
loving
you
.
I
always
will
,
I
suppose
.
And
I
do
n't
want
to
do
anything
to
hurt
you
,
dear
,
really
I
do
n't
if
I
can
help
it
.
"
And
Clyde
,
hearing
the
ring
of
genuine
affection
,
and
sensing
anew
his
old-time
power
over
her
,
was
disposed
to
reenact
the
role
of
lover
again
,
if
only
in
order
to
dissuade
Roberta
from
being
too
harsh
and
driving
with
him
now
.
For
while
he
could
not
like
her
now
,
he
told
himself
,
and
could
not
think
of
marrying
her
,
still
in
view
of
this
other
dream
he
could
at
least
be
gracious
to
her
--
could
he
not
?
--
Pretend
!
And
so
this
conversation
ended
with
a
new
peace
based
on
this
agreement
.
The
preceding
day
--
a
day
of
somewhat
reduced
activities
on
the
lakes
from
which
he
had
just
returned
--
he
and
Sondra
and
Stuart
and
Bertine
,
together
with
Nina
Temple
and
a
youth
named
Harley
Baggott
,
then
visiting
the
Thurstons
,
had
motored
first
from
Twelfth
Lake
to
Three
Mile
Bay
,
a
small
lakeside
resort
some
twenty-five
miles
north
,
and
from
thence
,
between
towering
walls
of
pines
,
to
Big
Bittern
and
some
other
smaller
lakes
lost
in
the
recesses
of
the
tall
pines
of
the
region
to
the
north
of
Trine
Lake
.
And
en
route
,
Clyde
,
as
he
now
recalled
,
had
been
most
strangely
impressed
at
moments
and
in
spots
by
the
desolate
and
for
the
most
part
lonely
character
of
the
region
.
The
narrow
and
rain
-
washed
and
even
rutted
nature
of
the
dirt
roads
that
wound
between
tall
,
silent
and
darksome
trees
--
forests
in
the
largest
sense
of
the
word
--
that
extended
for
miles
and
miles
apparently
on
either
hand
.
The
decadent
and
weird
nature
of
some
of
the
bogs
and
tarns
on
either
side
of
the
only
comparatively
passable
dirt
roads
which
here
and
there
were
festooned
with
funereal
or
viperous
vines
,
and
strewn
like
deserted
battlefields
with
soggy
and
decayed
piles
of
fallen
and
crisscrossed
logs
--
in
places
as
many
as
four
deep
--
one
above
the
other
--
in
the
green
slime
that
an
undrained
depression
in
the
earth
had
accumulated
.
The
eyes
and
backs
of
occasional
frogs
that
,
upon
lichen
or
vine
or
moss-covered
stumps
and
rotting
logs
in
this
warm
June
weather
,
there
sunned
themselves
apparently
undisturbed
;
the
spirals
of
gnats
,
the
solitary
flick
of
a
snake
's
tail
as
disturbed
by
the
sudden
approach
of
the
machine
,
one
made
off
into
the
muck
and
the
poisonous
grasses
and
water-plants
which
were
thickly
imbedded
in
it
.
And
in
seeing
one
of
these
Clyde
,
for
some
reason
,
had
thought
of
the
accident
at
Pass
Lake
.
He
did
not
realize
it
,
but
at
the
moment
his
own
subconscious
need
was
contemplating
the
loneliness
and
the
usefulness
at
times
of
such
a
lone
spot
as
this
.
And
at
one
point
it
was
that
a
wier-wier
,
one
of
the
solitary
water-birds
of
this
region
,
uttered
its
ouphe
and
barghest
cry
,
flying
from
somewhere
near
into
some
darker
recess
within
the
woods
.
And
at
this
sound
it
was
that
Clyde
had
stirred
nervously
and
then
sat
up
in
the
car
.
It
was
so
very
different
to
any
bird-cry
he
had
ever
heard
anywhere
.
"
What
was
that
?
"
he
asked
of
Harley
Baggott
,
who
sat
next
him
.
"
What
?
"
"
Why
,
that
bird
or
something
that
just
flew
away
back
there
just
now
?
"
