An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

gift had been given to her, Roberta now put the box on the

table, all the zest that might have been joined with it

completely banished.

“Did you have a good time last night, dear?” she queried,

curious as to the outcome of the event that had robbed her

of him.

“Oh, pretty good,” returned Clyde, anxious to put as

deceptive a face as possible on the night that had meant so

much to him and spelled so much danger to her. “I thought

I was just going over to my uncle’s for dinner like I told you.

But after I got there I found that what they really wanted me

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for was to escort Bella and Myra over to some doings in

Gloversville. There’s a rich family over there, the Steeles—

big glove people, you know. Well, anyhow, they were giving

a dance and they wanted me to take them over because Gil

couldn’t go. But it wasn’t so very interesting. I was glad

when it was all over.” He used the names Bella, Myra and

Gilbert as though they were long and assured intimates of

his—an intimacy which invariably impressed Roberta

greatly.

“You didn’t get through in time then to come around here,

did you?”

“No, I didn’t, ‘cause I had to wait for the bunch to come

back. I just couldn’t get away. But aren’t you going to open

your present?” he added, anxious to divert her thoughts

from this desertion which he knew was preying on her mind.

She began to untie the ribbon that bound his gift, at the

same time that her mind was riveted by the possibilities of

the party which he had felt called upon to mention. What

girls beside Bella and Myra had been there? Was there by

any chance any girl outside of herself in whom he might

have become recently interested? He was always talking

about Sondra Finchley, Bertine Cranston and Jill Trumbull.

Were they, by any chance, at this party?

“Who all were over there beside your cousins?” she

suddenly asked.

“Oh, a lot of people that you don’t know. Twenty or thirty

from different places around here.”

“Any others from Lycurgus beside your cousins?” she

persisted.

“Oh, a few. We picked up Jill Trumbull and her sister,

because Bella wanted to. Arabella Stark and Perley Haynes

were already over there when we got there.” He made no

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mention of Sondra or any of the others who so interested

him.

But because of the manner in saying it—something in the

tone of his voice and flick of his eyes, the answer did not

satisfy Roberta. She was really intensely troubled by this

new development, but did not feel that under the

circumstances it was wise to importune Clyde too much. He

might resent it. After all he had always been identified with

this world since ever she had known him. And she did not

want him to feel that she was attempting to assert any

claims over him, though such was her true desire.

“I wanted so much to be with you last night to give you your

present,” she returned instead, as much to divert her own

thoughts as to appeal to his regard for her. Clyde sensed

the sorrow in her voice and as of old it appealed to him,

only now he could not and would not let it take hold of him

as much as otherwise it might have.

“But you know how that was, Bert,” he replied, with almost

an air of bravado. “I just told you.”

“I know,” she replied sadly and attempting to conceal the

true mood that was dominating her. At the same time she

was removing the paper and opening the lid to the case

that contained her toilet set. And once opened, her mood

changed slightly because never before had she possessed

anything so valuable or original. “Oh, this is beautiful, isn’t

it?” she exclaimed, interested for the moment in spite of

herself. “I didn’t expect anything like this. My two little

presents won’t seem like very much now.”

She crossed over at once to get her gifts. Yet Clyde could

see that although his gift was exceptional, still it was not

sufficient to overcome the depression which his indifference

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had brought upon her. His continued love was far more vital

than any present.

“You like it, do you?” he asked, eagerly hoping against

hope that it would serve to divert her.

“Of course, dear,” she replied, looking at it interestedly. “But

mine won’t seem so much,” she added gloomily, and not a

little depressed by the general outcome of all her plans.

“But they’ll be useful to you and you’ll always have them

near you, next your heart, where I want them to be.”

She handed over the small box which contained the metal

Eversharp pencil and the silver ornamental fountain pen

she had chosen for him because she fancied they would be

useful to him in his work at the factory. Two weeks before

he would have taken her in his arms and sought to console

her for the misery he was now causing her. But now he

merely stood there wondering how, without seeming too

distant, he could assuage her and yet not enter upon the

customary demonstrations. And in order so to do he burst

into enthusiastic and yet somehow hollow words in regard

to her present to him.

“Oh, gee, these are swell, honey, and just what I need. You

certainly couldn’t have given me anything that would come

in handier. I can use them all the time.” He appeared to

examine them with the utmost pleasure and afterwards

fastened them in his pocket ready for use. Also, because

for the moment she was before him so downcast and

wistful, epitomizing really all the lure of the old relationship,

he put his arms around her and kissed her. She was

winsome, no doubt of it. And then when she threw her arms

around his neck and burst into tears, he held her close,

saying that there was no cause for all this and that she

would be back Wednesday and all would be as before. At

the same time he was thinking that this was not true, and

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how strange that was—seeing that only so recently he had

cared for her so much. It was amazing how another girl

could divert him in this way. And yet so it was. And although

she might be thinking that he was still caring for her as he

did before, he was not and never would again. And

because of this he felt really sorry for her.

Something of this latest mood in him reached Roberta now,

even as she listened to his words and felt his caresses.

They failed to convey sincerity. His manner was too

restless, his embraces too apathetic, his tone without real

tenderness. Further proof as to this was added when, after

a moment or two, he sought to disengage himself and look

at his watch, saying, “I guess I’ll have to be going now,

honey. It’s twenty of three now and that meeting is for

three. I wish I could ride over with you, but I’ll see you when

you get back.”

He bent down to kiss her but with Roberta sensing once

and for all, this time, that his mood in regard to her was

different, colder. He was interested and kind, but his

thoughts were elsewhere—and at this particular season of

the year, too—of all times. She tried to gather her strength

and her self-respect together and did, in part—saying rather

coolly, and determinedly toward the last: “Well, I don’t want

you to be late, Clyde. You better hurry. But I don’t want to

stay over there either later than Christmas night. Do you

suppose if I come back early Christmas afternoon, you will

come over here at all? I don’t want to be late Wednesday

for work.”

“Why, sure, of course, honey, I’ll be around,” replied Clyde

genially and even wholeheartedly, seeing that he had

nothing else scheduled, that he knew of, for then, and

would not so soon and boldly seek to evade her in this

fashion. “What time do you expect to get in?”

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The hour was to be eight and he decided that for that

occasion, anyhow, a reunion would be acceptable. He drew

out his watch again and saying, “I’ll have to be going now,

though,” moved toward the door.

Nervous as to the significance of all this and concerned

about the future, she now went over to him and seizing his

coat lapels and looking into his eyes, half-pleaded and half-

demanded: “Now, this is sure for Christmas night, is it,

Clyde? You won’t make any other engagement this time,

will you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. You know me. You know I couldn’t help

that other, honey. but I’ll be on hand Tuesday, sure,” he