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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 304/598
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But
here
now
was
the
train
.
And
there
was
Roberta
lifting
her
bag
.
Was
it
too
heavy
for
her
in
her
present
state
?
It
probably
was
.
Well
,
too
bad
.
It
was
very
hot
to-day
,
too
.
At
any
rate
he
would
help
her
with
it
later
,
when
they
were
where
no
one
could
see
them
.
She
was
looking
toward
him
to
be
sure
he
was
getting
on
--
so
like
her
these
days
,
in
her
suspicious
,
doubtful
mood
in
regard
to
him
.
But
here
was
a
seat
in
the
rear
of
the
car
on
the
shady
side
,
too
.
That
was
not
so
bad
.
He
would
settle
himself
comfortably
and
look
out
.
For
just
outside
Fonda
,
a
mile
or
two
beyond
,
was
that
same
Mohawk
that
ran
through
Lycurgus
and
past
the
factory
,
and
along
the
banks
of
which
the
year
before
,
he
and
Roberta
had
walked
about
this
time
.
But
the
memory
of
that
being
far
from
pleasant
now
,
he
turned
his
eyes
to
a
paper
he
had
bought
,
and
behind
which
he
could
shield
himself
as
much
as
possible
,
while
he
once
more
began
to
observe
the
details
of
the
more
inward
scene
which
now
so
much
more
concerned
him
--
the
nature
of
the
lake
country
around
Big
Bittern
,
which
ever
since
that
final
important
conversation
with
Roberta
over
the
telephone
,
had
been
interesting
him
more
than
any
other
geography
of
the
world
.
For
on
Friday
,
after
the
conversation
,
he
had
stopped
in
at
the
Lycurgus
House
and
secured
three
different
folders
relating
to
hotels
,
lodges
,
inns
and
other
camps
in
the
more
remote
region
beyond
Big
Bittern
and
Long
Lake
.
(
If
only
there
were
some
way
to
get
to
one
of
those
completely
deserted
lakes
described
by
that
guide
at
Big
Bittern
--
only
,
perhaps
,
there
might
not
be
any
row
-
boats
on
any
of
these
lakes
at
all
!
)
And
again
on
Saturday
,
had
he
not
secured
four
more
circulars
from
the
rack
at
the
depot
(
they
were
in
his
pocket
now
)
?
Had
they
not
proved
how
many
small
lakes
and
inns
there
were
along
this
same
railroad
,
which
ran
north
to
Big
Bittern
,
to
which
he
and
Roberta
might
resort
for
a
day
or
two
if
she
would
--
a
night
,
anyhow
,
before
going
to
Big
Bittern
and
Grass
Lake
--
had
he
not
noted
that
in
particular
--
a
beautiful
lake
it
had
said
--
near
the
station
,
and
with
at
least
three
attractive
lodges
or
country
home
inns
where
two
could
stay
for
as
low
as
twenty
dollars
a
week
.
That
meant
that
two
could
stay
for
one
night
surely
for
as
little
as
five
dollars
.
It
must
be
so
surely
--
and
so
he
was
going
to
say
to
her
,
as
he
had
already
planned
these
several
days
,
that
she
needed
a
little
rest
before
going
away
to
a
strange
place
.
That
it
would
not
cost
very
much
--
about
fifteen
dollars
for
fares
and
all
,
so
the
circulars
said
--
if
they
went
to
Grass
Lake
for
a
night
--
this
same
night
after
reaching
Utica
--
or
on
the
morrow
,
anyhow
.
And
he
would
have
to
picture
it
all
to
her
as
a
sort
of
honeymoon
journey
--
a
little
pleasant
outing
--
before
getting
married
.
And
it
would
not
do
to
succumb
to
any
plan
of
hers
to
get
married
before
they
did
this
--
that
would
never
do
.
(
Those
five
birds
winging
toward
that
patch
of
trees
over
there
--
below
that
hill
.
)
It
certainly
would
not
do
to
go
direct
to
Big
Bittern
from
Utica
for
a
boat
ride
--
just
one
day
--
seventy
miles
.
That
would
not
sound
right
to
her
,
or
to
any
one
.
It
would
make
her
suspicious
,
maybe
.
It
might
be
better
,
since
he
would
have
to
get
away
from
her
to
buy
a
hat
in
Utica
,
to
spend
this
first
night
there
at
some
inexpensive
,
inconspicuous
hotel
,
and
once
there
,
suggest
going
up
to
Grass
Lake
.
And
from
there
they
could
go
to
Big
Bittern
in
the
morning
.
He
could
say
that
Big
Bittern
was
nicer
--
or
that
they
would
go
down
to
Three
Mile
Bay
--
a
hamlet
really
as
he
knew
--
where
they
could
be
married
,
but
en
route
stop
at
Big
Bittern
as
a
sort
of
lark
.
He
would
say
that
he
wanted
to
show
her
the
lake
--
take
some
pictures
of
her
and
himself
.
He
had
brought
his
camera
for
that
and
for
other
pictures
of
Sondra
later
.
The
blackness
of
this
plot
of
his
!
(
Those
nine
black
and
white
cows
on
that
green
hillside
.
)
But
again
,
strapping
that
tripod
along
with
his
tennis
racquet
to
the
side
of
his
suitcase
,
might
not
that
cause
people
to
imagine
that
they
were
passing
tourists
from
some
distant
point
,
maybe
,
and
if
they
both
disappeared
,
well
,
then
,
they
were
not
people
from
anywhere
around
here
,
were
they
?
Did
n't
the
guide
say
that
the
water
in
the
lake
was
all
of
seventy-five
feet
deep
--
like
that
water
at
Pass
Lake
?
And
as
for
Roberta
's
grip
--
oh
,
yes
,
what
about
that
?
He
had
n't
even
thought
about
that
as
yet
,
really
.
