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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 314/598
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And
the
sharp
metallic
cry
of
a
blue-jay
speeding
in
the
depths
of
these
woods
.
Or
the
lone
and
ghostly
tap-tap-tap
of
some
solitary
woodpecker
,
with
now
and
then
the
red
line
of
a
flying
tanager
,
the
yellow
and
black
of
a
yellow-shouldered
blackbird
.
"
Oh
,
the
sun
shines
bright
in
my
old
Kentucky
home
.
"
It
was
Roberta
singing
cheerfully
,
one
hand
in
the
deep
blue
water
.
And
then
a
little
later
--
"
I
'll
be
there
Sunday
if
you
will
,
"
one
of
the
popular
dance
pieces
of
the
day
.
And
then
at
last
,
after
fully
an
hour
of
rowing
,
brooding
,
singing
,
stopping
to
look
at
some
charming
point
of
land
,
reconnoitering
some
receding
inlet
which
promised
water-lilies
,
and
with
Roberta
already
saying
that
they
must
watch
the
time
and
not
stay
out
too
long
--
the
bay
,
south
of
the
island
itself
--
a
beautiful
and
yet
most
funereally
pine-encircled
and
land
delimited
bit
of
water
--
more
like
a
smaller
lake
,
connected
by
an
inlet
or
passage
to
the
larger
one
,
and
yet
itself
a
respectable
body
of
water
of
perhaps
twenty
acres
of
surface
and
almost
circular
in
form
.
The
manner
in
which
to
the
east
,
the
north
,
the
south
,
the
west
,
even
,
except
for
the
passage
by
which
the
island
to
the
north
of
it
was
separated
from
the
mainland
,
this
pool
or
tarn
was
encircled
by
trees
!
And
cat-tails
and
water-lilies
here
and
there
--
a
few
along
its
shores
.
And
somehow
suggesting
an
especially
arranged
pool
or
tarn
to
which
one
who
was
weary
of
life
and
cares
--
anxious
to
be
away
from
the
strife
and
contentions
of
the
world
,
might
most
wisely
and
yet
gloomily
repair
.
And
as
they
glided
into
this
,
this
still
dark
water
seemed
to
grip
Clyde
as
nothing
here
or
anywhere
before
this
ever
had
--
to
change
his
mood
.
For
once
here
he
seemed
to
be
fairly
pulled
or
lured
along
into
it
,
and
having
encircled
its
quiet
banks
,
to
be
drifting
,
drifting
--
in
endless
space
where
was
no
end
of
anything
--
no
plots
--
no
plans
--
no
practical
problems
to
be
solved
--
nothing
.
The
insidious
beauty
of
this
place
!
Truly
,
it
seemed
to
mock
him
--
this
strangeness
--
this
dark
pool
,
surrounded
on
all
sides
by
those
wonderful
,
soft
,
fir
trees
.
And
the
water
itself
looking
like
a
huge
,
black
pearl
cast
by
some
mighty
hand
,
in
anger
possibly
,
in
sport
or
phantasy
maybe
,
into
the
bosom
of
this
valley
of
dark
,
green
plush
--
and
which
seemed
bottomless
as
he
gazed
into
it
.
And
yet
,
what
did
it
all
suggest
so
strongly
?
Death
!
Death
!
More
definitely
than
anything
he
had
ever
seen
before
.
Death
!
But
also
a
still
,
quiet
,
unprotesting
type
of
death
into
which
one
,
by
reason
of
choice
or
hypnosis
or
unutterable
weariness
,
might
joyfully
and
gratefully
sink
.
So
quiet
--
so
shaded
--
so
serene
.
Even
Roberta
exclaimed
over
this
.
And
he
now
felt
for
the
first
time
the
grip
of
some
seemingly
strong
,
and
yet
friendly
sympathetic
,
hands
laid
firmly
on
his
shoulders
.
The
comfort
of
them
!
The
warmth
!
The
strength
!
For
now
they
seemed
to
have
a
steadying
effect
on
him
and
he
liked
them
--
their
reassurance
--
their
support
.
If
only
they
would
not
be
removed
!
If
only
they
would
remain
always
--
the
hands
of
this
friend
!
For
where
had
he
ever
known
this
comforting
and
almost
tender
sensation
before
in
all
his
life
?
Not
anywhere
--
and
somehow
this
calmed
him
and
he
seemed
to
slip
away
from
the
reality
of
all
things
.
To
be
sure
,
there
was
Roberta
over
there
,
but
by
now
she
had
faded
to
a
shadow
or
thought
really
,
a
form
of
illusion
more
vaporous
than
real
.
And
while
there
was
something
about
her
in
color
,
form
that
suggested
reality
--
still
she
was
very
insubstantial
--
so
very
--
and
once
more
now
he
felt
strangely
alone
.
For
the
hands
of
the
friend
of
firm
grip
had
vanished
also
.
And
Clyde
was
alone
,
so
very
much
alone
and
forlorn
,
in
this
somber
,
beautiful
realm
to
which
apparently
he
had
been
led
,
and
then
deserted
.
Also
he
felt
strangely
cold
--
the
spell
of
this
strange
beauty
overwhelming
him
with
a
kind
of
chill
.
