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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 343/598
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For
at
this
time
there
had
come
to
him
the
thought
that
this
south
train
from
Albany
,
as
well
as
Utica
being
due
here
at
this
hour
,
it
was
only
natural
that
he
should
seem
to
come
on
that
.
Pretending
first
,
therefore
,
to
be
going
to
the
station
,
yet
stopping
en
route
to
telephone
Bertine
and
Sondra
that
he
was
here
,
and
being
assured
that
a
car
rather
than
a
launch
would
be
sent
for
him
,
he
explained
that
he
would
be
waiting
on
the
west
veranda
of
the
inn
.
En
route
also
he
stopped
at
a
news
stand
for
a
morning
paper
,
although
he
knew
there
could
be
nothing
in
it
as
yet
.
And
he
had
barely
crossed
to
the
veranda
of
the
inn
and
seated
himself
before
the
Cranston
car
approached
.
And
in
response
to
the
greeting
of
the
Cranston
family
chauffeur
,
whom
he
knew
well
,
and
who
smiled
most
welcomingly
,
he
was
now
able
to
achieve
a
seemingly
easy
and
genial
smile
,
though
still
inwardly
troubled
by
his
great
dread
.
For
no
doubt
by
now
,
as
he
persistently
argued
with
himself
,
the
three
men
whom
he
had
met
had
reached
Big
Bittern
.
And
by
now
both
Roberta
and
he
must
assuredly
have
been
missed
,
and
maybe
,
who
knows
,
the
upturned
boat
with
his
hat
and
her
veil
discovered
!
If
so
,
might
they
not
have
already
reported
that
they
had
seen
such
a
man
as
himself
,
carrying
a
bag
,
and
making
his
way
to
the
south
in
the
night
?
And
,
if
so
,
would
not
that
,
regardless
of
whether
the
body
was
found
or
not
,
cause
them
to
become
dubious
as
to
whether
a
double
drowning
had
occurred
?
And
supposing
by
some
strange
chance
her
body
should
come
to
the
surface
?
Then
what
?
And
might
there
not
be
a
mark
left
by
that
hard
blow
he
had
given
her
?
If
so
,
would
they
not
suspect
murder
,
and
his
body
not
coming
up
and
those
men
describing
the
man
they
had
seen
,
would
not
Clifford
Golden
or
Carl
Graham
be
suspected
of
murder
?
But
neither
Clifford
Golden
nor
Carl
Graham
were
Clyde
Griffiths
by
any
means
.
And
they
could
not
possibly
identify
Clyde
Griffiths
--
with
either
Clifford
Golden
or
Carl
Graham
.
For
had
he
not
taken
every
precaution
,
even
searching
through
Roberta
's
bag
and
purse
there
at
Grass
Lake
while
at
his
request
after
breakfast
she
had
gone
back
to
see
about
the
lunch
?
Had
he
not
?
True
,
he
had
found
those
two
letters
from
that
girl
,
Theresa
Bouser
,
addressed
to
Roberta
at
Biltz
,
and
he
had
destroyed
them
before
ever
leaving
for
Gun
Lodge
.
And
as
for
that
toilet
set
in
its
original
case
,
with
the
label
"
Whitely
--
Lycurgus
"
on
it
,
while
it
was
true
that
he
had
been
compelled
to
leave
that
,
still
might
not
any
one
--
Mrs.
Clifford
Golden
,
or
Mrs
Carl
Graham
--
have
bought
that
in
Whitely
's
,
and
so
without
the
possibility
of
its
being
traced
to
him
?
Assuredly
.
And
as
for
her
clothes
,
even
assuming
that
they
did
go
to
prove
her
identity
,
would
it
not
be
assumed
,
by
her
parents
as
well
as
others
,
that
she
had
gone
on
this
trip
with
a
strange
man
by
the
name
of
Golden
or
Graham
,
and
would
they
not
want
that
hushed
up
without
further
ado
?
At
any
rate
,
he
would
hope
for
the
best
--
keep
up
his
nerve
,
put
on
a
strong
,
pleasant
,
cheerful
front
here
,
so
that
no
one
would
think
of
him
as
the
one
,
since
he
had
not
actually
killed
her
,
anyhow
.
Here
he
was
in
this
fine
car
.
And
Sondra
,
as
well
as
Bertine
,
waiting
for
him
.
He
would
have
to
say
that
he
was
just
up
from
Albany
--
had
been
on
some
errand
over
there
for
his
uncle
which
had
taken
all
of
this
time
since
Tuesday
.
And
while
he
should
be
blissfully
happy
with
Sondra
,
still
here
were
all
of
those
dreadful
things
of
which
now
all
of
the
time
he
would
be
compelled
to
think
.
The
danger
that
in
some
inadvertent
way
he
had
not
quite
covered
all
the
tracks
that
might
lead
to
him
.
And
if
he
had
not
!
Exposure
!
Arrest
!
Perhaps
a
hasty
and
unjust
conviction
--
punishment
,
even
!
Unless
he
was
able
to
explain
about
that
accidental
blow
.
The
end
of
all
his
dreams
in
connection
with
Sondra
--
Lycurgus
--
the
great
life
that
he
had
hoped
for
himself
.
But
could
he
explain
as
to
that
?
Could
he
?
God
!
From
Friday
morning
until
the
following
Tuesday
noon
,
moving
amid
such
scenes
as
previously
had
so
exhilarated
and
enthralled
him
,
Clyde
was
now
compelled
to
suffer
the
most
frightful
fears
and
dreads
.
For
,
although
met
by
Sondra
,
as
well
as
Bertine
,
at
the
door
of
the
Cranston
lodge
,
and
shown
by
them
to
the
room
he
was
to
occupy
,
he
could
not
help
but
contrast
every
present
delight
here
with
the
danger
of
his
immediate
and
complete
destruction
.
As
he
had
entered
,
Sondra
had
poutingly
whispered
,
so
that
Bertine
might
not
hear
:
"
Baddie
!
Staying
down
there
a
whole
week
when
you
might
have
been
up
here
.
And
Sondra
planning
everything
for
you
!
You
ought
to
have
a
good
spanking
.
I
was
going
to
call
up
to-day
to
see
where
you
were
.
"
Yet
at
the
same
time
her
eyes
conveying
the
infatuation
that
now
dominated
her
.
And
he
,
in
spite
of
his
troubled
thoughts
achieving
a
gay
smile
--
for
once
in
her
presence
even
the
terror
of
Roberta
's
death
,
his
own
present
danger
appeared
to
dwindle
.
If
only
all
went
well
,
now
--
nothing
were
traced
to
him
!
A
clear
path
!
A
marvelous
future
!
Her
beauty
!
Her
love
!
Her
wealth
.
And
yet
,
after
being
ushered
to
his
room
,
his
bag
having
been
carried
in
before
him
,
at
once
becoming
nervous
as
to
the
suit
.
It
was
damp
and
wrinkled
.
He
must
hide
it
on
one
of
the
upper
shelves
of
a
closet
,
maybe
.
And
the
moment
he
was
alone
and
the
door
locked
,
taking
it
out
,
wet
and
wrinkled
,
the
mud
of
the
shores
of
Big
Bittern
still
about
the
legs
--
yet
deciding
perhaps
not
--
perhaps
he
had
better
keep
it
locked
in
his
bag
until
night
when
he
could
better
decide
what
to
do
.
Yet
tying
up
in
a
single
bundle
,
in
order
to
have
them
laundered
,
other
odds
and
ends
he
had
worn
that
day
.
And
,
as
he
did
so
,
terribly
,
sickeningly
conscious
of
the
mystery
and
drama
as
well
as
the
pathos
of
his
life
--
all
he
had
contacted
since
his
arrival
in
the
east
,
how
little
he
had
in
his
youth
.
How
little
he
had
now
,
really
.
The
spaciousness
and
grandeur
of
this
room
as
contrasted
with
the
one
he
occupied
in
Lycurgus
.
The
strangeness
of
his
being
here
at
all
after
yesterday
.
The
blue
waters
of
this
bright
lake
without
as
contrasted
with
the
darker
ones
of
Big
Bittern
.
And
on
the
green-sward
that
reached
from
this
bright
,
strong
,
rambling
house
,
with
its
wide
veranda
and
striped
awnings
to
the
shore
of
the
lake
itself
,
Stuart
Finchley
and
Violet
Taylor
,
together
with
Frank
Harriet
and
Wynette
Phant
,
in
the
smartest
of
sport
clothes
,
playing
tennis
,
while
Bertine
and
Harley
Baggott
tolled
in
the
shade
of
a
striped
marquee
swing
.
