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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 374/598
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And
so
no
real
peace
for
Clyde
at
any
time
between
there
and
Bridgeburg
and
the
county
jail
.
For
however
much
he
might
refuse
to
answer
,
still
Mason
was
forever
jumping
at
him
with
such
questions
as
:
Why
was
it
if
all
you
wanted
to
do
was
to
eat
lunch
on
shore
that
you
had
to
row
all
the
way
down
to
that
extreme
south
end
of
the
lake
when
it
is
n't
nearly
so
attractive
there
as
it
is
at
other
points
?
And
:
Where
was
it
that
you
spent
the
rest
of
that
afternoon
--
surely
not
just
there
?
And
then
,
jumping
back
to
Sondra
's
letters
discovered
in
his
bag
.
How
long
had
he
known
her
?
Was
he
as
much
in
love
with
her
as
she
appeared
to
be
with
him
?
Was
n't
it
because
of
her
promise
to
marry
him
in
the
fall
that
he
had
decided
to
kill
Miss
Alden
?
But
while
Clyde
vehemently
troubled
to
deny
this
last
charge
,
still
for
the
most
part
he
gazed
silently
and
miserably
before
him
with
his
tortured
and
miserable
eyes
.
And
then
a
most
wretched
night
spent
in
the
garret
of
a
farmhouse
at
the
west
end
of
the
lake
,
and
on
a
pallet
on
the
floor
,
while
Sissel
,
Swenk
and
Kraut
,
gun
in
hand
,
in
turn
kept
watch
over
him
,
and
Mason
and
the
sheriff
and
the
others
slept
below
stairs
.
And
some
natives
,
because
of
information
distributed
somehow
,
coming
toward
morning
to
inquire
:
"
We
hear
the
feller
that
killed
the
girl
over
to
Big
Bittern
is
here
--
is
that
right
?
"
And
then
waiting
to
see
them
off
at
dawn
in
the
Fords
secured
by
Mason
.
And
again
at
Little
Fish
Inlet
as
well
as
Three
Mile
Bay
,
actual
crowds
--
farmers
,
store-keepers
,
summer
residents
,
woodsmen
,
children
--
all
gathered
because
of
word
telephoned
on
ahead
apparently
.
And
at
the
latter
place
,
Burleigh
,
Heit
and
Newcomb
,
who
,
because
of
previously
telephoned
information
,
had
brought
before
one
Gabriel
Gregg
,
a
most
lanky
and
crusty
and
meticulous
justice
of
the
peace
,
all
of
the
individuals
from
Big
Bittern
necessary
to
identify
him
fully
.
And
now
Mason
,
before
this
local
justice
,
charging
Clyde
with
the
death
of
Roberta
and
having
him
properly
and
legally
held
as
a
material
witness
to
be
lodged
in
the
county
jail
at
Bridgeburg
.
And
then
taking
him
,
along
with
Burton
,
the
sheriff
and
his
deputies
,
to
Bridgeburg
,
where
he
was
promptly
locked
up
.
And
once
there
,
Clyde
throwing
himself
on
the
iron
cot
and
holding
his
head
in
a
kind
of
agony
of
despair
.
It
was
three
o'clock
in
the
morning
,
and
just
outside
the
jail
as
they
approached
he
had
seen
a
crowd
of
at
least
five
hundred
--
noisy
,
jeering
,
threatening
.
For
had
not
the
news
been
forwarded
that
because
of
his
desire
to
marry
a
rich
girl
he
had
most
brutally
assaulted
and
murdered
a
young
and
charming
working-girl
whose
only
fault
had
been
that
she
loved
him
too
well
.
There
had
been
hard
and
threatening
cries
of
"
There
he
is
,
the
dirty
bastard
!
You
'll
swing
for
this
yet
,
you
young
devil
,
wait
and
see
!
"
This
from
a
young
woodsman
not
unlike
Swenk
in
type
--
a
hard
,
destroying
look
in
his
fierce
young
eyes
,
leaning
out
from
the
crowd
.
And
worse
,
a
waspish
type
of
small
-
town
slum
girl
,
dressed
in
a
gingham
dress
,
who
in
the
dim
light
of
the
arcs
,
had
leaned
forward
to
cry
:
"
Lookit
,
the
dirty
little
sneak
--
the
murderer
!
You
thought
you
'd
get
away
with
it
,
didnja
?
"
And
Clyde
,
crowding
closer
to
Sheriff
Slack
,
and
thinking
:
Why
,
they
actually
think
I
did
kill
her
!
And
they
may
even
lynch
me
!
But
so
weary
and
confused
and
debased
and
miserable
that
at
the
sight
of
the
outer
steel
jail
door
swinging
open
to
receive
him
,
he
actually
gave
vent
to
a
sigh
of
relief
because
of
the
protection
it
afforded
.
But
once
in
his
cell
,
suffering
none
the
less
without
cessation
the
long
night
through
,
from
thoughts
--
thoughts
concerning
all
that
had
just
gone
.
Sondra
!
the
Griffiths
!
Bertine
.
All
those
people
in
Lycurgus
when
they
should
hear
in
the
morning
.
His
mother
eventually
,
everybody
.
Where
was
Sondra
now
?
For
Mason
had
told
her
,
of
course
,
and
all
those
others
,
when
he
had
gone
back
to
secure
his
things
.
And
they
knew
him
now
for
what
he
was
--
a
plotter
of
murder
!
Only
,
only
,
if
somebody
could
only
know
how
it
had
all
come
about
!
If
Sondra
,
his
mother
,
any
one
,
could
truly
see
!
