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- Теодор Драйзер
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"
Not
a
one
,
miss
,
outside
o
'
the
inn
that
we
're
goin
'
to
.
There
was
a
crowd
of
young
fellers
and
girls
campin
'
over
on
the
east
shore
,
yisterday
,
I
believe
,
about
a
mile
from
the
inn
--
but
whether
they
're
there
now
or
not
,
I
dunno
.
Ai
n't
seen
none
of
'em
to-day
.
"
A
crowd
of
young
fellows
and
girls
!
For
God
's
sake
!
And
might
not
they
now
be
out
on
the
water
--
all
of
them
--
rowing
--
or
sailing
--
or
what
?
And
he
here
with
her
!
Maybe
some
of
them
from
Twelfth
Lake
!
Just
as
he
and
Sondra
and
Harriet
and
Stuart
and
Bertine
had
come
up
two
weeks
before
--
some
of
them
friends
of
the
Cranstons
,
Harriets
,
Finchleys
or
others
who
had
come
up
here
to
play
and
who
would
remember
him
,
of
course
.
And
again
,
then
,
there
must
be
a
road
to
the
east
of
this
lake
.
And
all
this
knowledge
and
their
presence
there
now
might
make
this
trip
of
his
useless
.
Such
silly
plotting
!
Such
pointless
planning
as
this
--
when
at
least
he
might
have
taken
more
time
--
chosen
a
lake
still
farther
away
and
should
have
--
only
so
tortured
had
he
been
for
these
last
many
days
,
that
he
could
scarcely
think
how
to
think
.
Well
,
all
he
could
do
now
was
to
go
and
see
.
If
there
were
many
he
must
think
of
some
way
to
row
to
some
real
lonely
spot
or
maybe
turn
and
return
to
Grass
Lake
--
or
where
?
Oh
,
what
could
or
would
he
do
--
if
there
were
many
over
here
?
But
just
then
a
long
aisle
of
green
trees
giving
out
at
the
far
end
as
he
now
recalled
upon
a
square
of
lawn
,
and
the
lake
itself
,
the
little
inn
with
its
pillared
verandah
,
facing
the
dark
blue
waters
of
Big
Bittern
.
And
that
low
,
small
red-roofed
boathouse
to
the
right
on
the
water
that
he
had
seen
before
when
he
was
here
.
And
Roberta
exclaiming
on
sight
,
"
Oh
,
it
is
pretty
,
is
n't
it
--
just
beautiful
.
"
And
Clyde
surveying
that
dark
,
low
island
in
the
distance
,
to
the
south
,
and
seeing
but
few
people
about
--
none
on
the
lake
itself
--
exclaiming
nervously
,
"
Yes
,
it
is
,
you
bet
.
"
But
feeling
half
choked
as
he
said
it
.
And
now
the
host
of
the
inn
himself
appearing
and
approaching
--
a
medium-sized
,
red-faced
,
broad-shouldered
man
who
was
saying
most
intriguingly
,
"
Staying
over
for
a
few
days
?
"
But
Clyde
,
irritated
by
this
new
development
and
after
paying
the
guide
a
dollar
,
replying
crustily
and
irritably
,
"
No
,
no
--
just
came
over
for
the
afternoon
.
We
're
going
on
down
to-night
.
"
"
You
'll
be
staying
over
for
dinner
then
,
I
suppose
?
The
train
does
n't
leave
till
eight-fifteen
.
"
"
Oh
,
yes
--
that
's
so
.
Sure
.
Yes
,
well
,
in
that
case
,
we
will
.
"
...
For
,
of
course
,
Roberta
on
her
honeymoon
--
the
day
before
her
wedding
and
on
a
trip
like
this
,
would
be
expecting
her
dinner
.
Damn
this
stocky
,
red-faced
fool
,
anyway
.
"
Well
,
then
,
I
'll
just
take
your
bag
and
you
can
register
.
Your
wife
'll
probably
be
wanting
to
freshen
up
a
bit
anyway
.
"
He
led
the
way
,
bag
in
hand
,
although
Clyde
's
greatest
desire
was
to
snatch
it
from
him
.
For
he
had
not
expected
to
register
here
--
nor
leave
his
bag
either
.
And
would
not
.
He
would
recapture
it
and
hire
a
boat
.
But
on
top
of
that
,
being
compelled
"
for
the
register
's
sake
,
"
as
Boniface
phrased
it
,
to
sign
Clifford
Golden
and
wife
--
before
he
could
take
his
bag
again
.
