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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 315/598
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He
had
come
here
for
what
?
And
he
must
do
what
?
Kill
Roberta
?
Oh
,
no
!
And
again
he
lowered
his
head
and
gazed
into
the
fascinating
and
yet
treacherous
depths
of
that
magnetic
,
bluish
,
purple
pool
,
which
,
as
he
continued
to
gaze
,
seemed
to
change
its
form
kaleidoscopically
to
a
large
,
crystalline
ball
.
But
what
was
that
moving
about
in
this
crystal
?
A
form
!
It
came
nearer
--
clearer
--
and
as
it
did
so
,
he
recognized
Roberta
struggling
and
waving
her
thin
white
arms
out
of
the
water
and
reaching
toward
him
!
God
!
How
terrible
!
The
expression
on
her
face
!
What
in
God
's
name
was
he
thinking
of
anyway
?
Death
!
Murder
!
And
suddenly
becoming
conscious
that
his
courage
,
on
which
he
had
counted
so
much
this
long
while
to
sustain
him
here
,
was
leaving
him
,
and
he
instantly
and
consciously
plumbing
the
depths
of
his
being
in
a
vain
search
to
recapture
it
.
Kit
,
kit
,
kit
,
Ca-a-a-ah
!
Kit
,
kit
,
kit
,
Ca-a-a-ah
!
Kit
,
kit
,
kit
,
Ca-a-a-ah
!
(
The
weird
,
haunting
cry
of
that
unearthly
bird
again
.
So
cold
,
so
harsh
!
Here
it
was
once
more
to
startle
him
out
of
his
soul
flight
into
a
realization
of
the
real
or
unreal
immediate
problem
with
all
of
its
torturesome
angles
that
lay
before
him
.
)
He
must
face
this
thing
!
He
must
!
Kit
,
kit
,
kit
,
Ca-a-a-ah
!
Kit
,
kit
,
kit
,
Ca-a-a-ah
!
What
was
it
sounding
--
a
warning
--
a
protest
--
condemnation
?
The
same
bird
that
had
marked
the
very
birth
of
this
miserable
plan
.
For
there
it
was
now
upon
that
dead
tree
--
that
wretched
bird
.
And
now
it
was
flying
to
another
one
--
as
dead
--
a
little
farther
inland
and
crying
as
it
did
so
.
God
!
