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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 311/598
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And
then
to
add
to
the
nervousness
and
confusion
engendered
by
all
this
,
thoughts
as
to
what
additional
developments
or
persons
,
even
,
he
might
encounter
before
leaving
on
his
climacteric
errand
--
Roberta
announcing
that
because
of
the
heat
and
the
fact
that
they
were
coming
back
to
dinner
,
she
would
leave
her
hat
and
coat
--
a
hat
in
which
he
had
already
seen
the
label
of
Braunstein
in
Lycurgus
--
and
which
at
the
time
caused
him
to
meditate
as
to
the
wisdom
of
leaving
or
extracting
it
.
But
he
had
decided
that
perhaps
afterwards
--
afterwards
--
if
he
should
really
do
this
--
it
might
not
make
any
difference
whether
it
was
there
,
or
not
.
Was
she
not
likely
to
be
identified
anyhow
,
if
found
,
and
if
not
found
,
who
was
to
know
who
she
was
?
In
a
confused
and
turbulent
state
mentally
,
scarcely
realizing
the
clarity
or
import
of
any
particular
thought
or
movement
or
act
now
,
he
took
up
his
bag
and
led
the
way
to
the
boathouse
platform
.
And
then
,
after
dropping
the
bag
into
the
boat
,
asking
of
the
boathouse
keeper
if
he
knew
where
the
best
views
were
,
that
he
wanted
to
photograph
them
.
And
this
done
--
the
meaningless
explanation
over
,
assisting
Roberta
(
an
almost
nebulous
figure
,
she
now
seemed
,
stepping
down
into
an
insubstantial
row-boat
upon
a
purely
ideational
lake
)
,
he
now
stepped
in
after
her
,
seating
himself
in
the
center
and
taking
the
oars
.
The
quiet
,
glassy
,
iridescent
surface
of
this
lake
that
now
to
both
seemed
,
not
so
much
like
water
as
oil
--
like
molten
glass
that
,
of
enormous
bulk
and
weight
,
resting
upon
the
substantial
earth
so
very
far
below
.
And
the
lightness
and
freshness
and
intoxication
of
the
gentle
air
blowing
here
and
there
,
yet
scarcely
rippling
the
surface
of
the
lake
.
And
the
softness
and
furry
thickness
of
the
tall
pines
about
the
shore
.
Everywhere
pines
--
tall
and
spearlike
.
And
above
them
the
humped
backs
of
the
dark
and
distant
Adirondacks
beyond
.
Not
a
rower
to
be
seen
.
Not
a
house
or
cabin
.
He
sought
to
distinguish
the
camp
of
which
the
guide
had
spoken
.
He
could
not
.
He
sought
to
distinguish
the
voices
of
those
who
might
be
there
--
or
any
voices
.
Yet
,
except
for
the
lock-lock
of
his
own
oars
as
he
rowed
and
the
voice
of
the
boathouse
keeper
and
the
guide
in
converse
two
hundred
,
three
hundred
,
five
hundred
,
a
thousand
feet
behind
,
there
was
no
sound
.
"
Is
n't
it
still
and
peaceful
?
"
It
was
Roberta
talking
.
"
It
seems
to
be
so
restful
here
.
I
think
it
's
beautiful
,
truly
,
so
much
more
beautiful
than
that
other
lake
.
These
trees
are
so
tall
,
are
n't
they
?
And
those
mountains
.
I
was
thinking
all
the
way
over
how
cool
and
silent
that
road
was
,
even
if
it
was
a
little
rough
.
"
"
Did
you
talk
to
any
one
in
the
inn
there
just
now
?
"
"
Why
,
no
;
what
makes
you
ask
?
"
"
Oh
,
I
thought
you
might
have
run
into
some
one
.
There
do
n't
seem
to
be
very
many
people
up
here
to-day
,
though
,
does
there
?
"
"
No
,
I
do
n't
see
any
one
on
the
lake
.
I
saw
two
men
in
that
billiard
room
at
the
back
there
,
and
there
was
a
girl
in
the
ladies
'
room
,
that
was
all
.
Is
n't
this
water
cold
?
"
She
had
put
her
hand
over
the
side
and
was
trailing
it
in
the
blue-black
ripples
made
by
his
oars
.
"
Is
it
?
I
have
n't
felt
it
yet
.
"
