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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 307/598
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And
then
,
as
planned
that
night
between
them
--
a
trip
to
Grass
Lake
the
next
morning
in
separate
cars
,
but
which
,
upon
their
arrival
and
to
his
surprise
,
proved
to
be
so
much
more
briskly
tenanted
than
he
anticipated
.
He
was
very
much
disturbed
and
frightened
by
the
evidence
of
so
much
active
life
up
here
.
For
he
had
fancied
this
,
as
well
as
Big
Bittern
,
would
be
all
but
deserted
.
Yet
here
now
,
as
both
could
see
,
it
was
the
summer
seat
and
gathering
place
of
some
small
religious
organization
or
group
--
the
Winebrennarians
of
Pennsylvania
--
as
it
proved
with
a
tabernacle
and
numerous
cottages
across
the
lake
from
the
station
.
And
Roberta
at
once
exclaiming
:
"
Now
,
there
,
is
n't
that
cute
?
Why
could
n't
we
be
married
over
there
by
the
minister
of
that
church
?
"
And
Clyde
,
puzzled
and
shaken
by
this
sudden
and
highly
unsatisfactory
development
,
at
once
announced
:
"
Why
,
sure
--
I
'll
go
over
after
a
bit
and
see
,
"
yet
his
mind
busy
with
schemes
for
circumventing
her
.
He
would
take
her
out
in
a
boat
after
registering
and
getting
settled
and
remain
too
long
.
Or
should
a
peculiarly
remote
and
unobserved
spot
be
found
...
but
no
,
there
were
too
many
people
here
.
The
lake
was
not
large
enough
,
and
probably
not
very
deep
.
It
was
black
or
dark
like
tar
,
and
sentineled
to
the
east
and
north
by
tall
,
dark
pines
--
the
serried
spears
of
armed
and
watchful
giants
,
as
they
now
seemed
to
him
--
ogres
almost
--
so
gloomy
,
suspicious
and
fantastically
erratic
was
his
own
mood
in
regard
to
all
this
.
But
still
there
were
too
many
people
--
as
many
as
ten
on
the
lake
.
The
weirdness
of
it
.
The
difficulty
.
But
whisper
:
--
one
could
not
walk
from
here
through
any
woods
to
Three
Mile
Bay
.
Oh
,
no
.
That
was
all
of
thirty
miles
to
the
south
now
.
And
besides
this
lake
was
less
lonely
--
probably
continually
observed
by
members
of
this
religious
group
.
Oh
,
no
--
he
must
say
--
he
must
say
--
but
what
--
could
he
say
?
That
he
had
inquired
,
and
that
no
license
could
be
procured
here
?
Or
that
the
minister
was
away
,
or
that
he
required
certain
identifications
which
he
did
not
have
--
or
--
or
,
well
,
well
--
anything
that
would
serve
to
still
Roberta
until
such
hour
to-morrow
,
as
the
train
south
from
here
left
for
Big
Bittern
and
Sharon
,
where
,
of
course
,
they
would
surely
be
married
.
Why
should
she
be
so
insistent
?
And
why
,
anyhow
,
and
except
for
her
crass
determination
to
force
him
in
this
way
,
should
he
be
compelled
to
track
here
and
there
with
her
--
every
hour
--
every
minute
of
which
was
torture
--
an
unending
mental
crucifixion
really
,
when
,
if
he
were
but
rid
of
her
!
Oh
,
Sondra
,
Sondra
,
if
but
now
from
your
high
estate
,
you
might
bend
down
and
aid
me
.
No
more
lies
!
No
more
suffering
!
No
more
misery
of
any
kind
!
But
instead
,
more
lies
.
A
long
and
aimless
and
pestilential
search
for
water-lilies
,
which
because
of
his
own
restless
mood
,
bored
Roberta
as
much
as
it
did
him
.
For
why
,
she
was
now
thinking
to
herself
as
they
rowed
about
,
this
indifference
to
this
marriage
possibility
,
which
could
have
been
arranged
before
now
and
given
this
outing
the
dream
quality
it
would
and
should
have
had
,
if
only
--
if
only
he
had
arranged
for
everything
in
Utica
,
even
as
she
had
wanted
.
But
this
waiting
--
evasion
--
and
so
like
Clyde
,
his
vacillating
,
indefinite
,
uncertain
mood
,
always
.
She
was
beginning
to
wonder
now
as
to
his
intentions
again
--
whether
really
and
truly
he
did
intend
to
marry
her
as
he
had
promised
.
Tomorrow
,
or
the
next
day
at
most
,
would
show
.
So
why
worry
now
?
