X

An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

married to a man even as inefficient and unattractive but

steadfast as Fred Gabel, than to occupy the anomalous

position in which she now found herself in her relations with

Clyde? For here was Gabel now talking briskly of the

improvements that had come to himself and Agnes during

the year in which they had been married. In that time he

had been able to resign his position as teacher in Homer

and take over on shares the management of a small book

and stationery store whose principal contributory features

were a toy department and soda fountain. They had been

doing a good business. Agnes, if all went well, would be

able to buy a mission parlor suite by next summer. Fred

had already bought her a phonograph for Christmas. In

An American Tragedy

515

proof of their well-being, they had brought satisfactory

remembrances for all of the Aldens.

But Gabel had with him a copy of the Lycurgus Star, and at

breakfast, which because of the visitors this morning was

unusually late, was reading the news of that city, for in

Lycurgus was located the wholesale house from which he

secured a portion of his stock.

“Well, I see things are going full blast in your town, Bob,” he

observed. “The Star here says the Griffiths Company have

got an order for 120,000 collars from the Buffalo trade

alone. They must be just coining money over there.”

“There’s always plenty to do in my department, I know that,”

replied Roberta, briskly. “We never seem to have any the

less to do whether business is good or bad. I guess it must

be good all the time.”

“Pretty soft for those people. They don’t have to worry

about anything. Some one was telling me they’re going to

build a new factory in Ilion to manufacture shuts alone.

Heard anything about that down there?”

“Why, no, I haven’t. Maybe it’s some other company.”

“By the way, what’s the name of that young man you said

was the head of your department? Wasn’t he a Griffiths,

too?” he asked briskly, turning to the editorial page, which

also carried news of local Lycurgus society.

“Yes, his name is Griffiths—Clyde Griffiths. Why?”

“I think I saw his name in here a minute ago. I just wanted

to see if it ain’t the same fellow. Sure, here you are. Ain’t

this the one?” He passed the paper to Roberta with his

finger on an item which read:

Miss Vanda Steele, of Gloversville, was hostess at

an informal dance held at her home in that city Friday

An American Tragedy

516

night, at which were present several prominent

members of Lycurgus society, among them the Misses

Sondra Finchley, Bertine Cranston, Jill and Gertrude

Trumbull and Perley Haynes, and Messrs. Clyde

Griffiths, Frank Harriet, Tracy Trumbull, Grant Cranston

and Scott Nicholson. The party, as is usual whenever

the younger group assembles, did not break up until

late, the Lycurgus members motoring back just before

dawn. It is already rumored that most of this group will

gather at the Ellerslies’, in Schenectady, New Year’s

Eve for another event of this same gay nature.

“He seems to be quite a fellow over there,” Gabel

remarked, even as Roberta was reading.

The first thing that occurred to Roberta on reading this item

was that it appeared to have little, if anything, to do with the

group which Clyde had said was present. In the first place

there was no mention of Myra or Bella Griffiths. On the

other hand, all those names with which, because of recent

frequent references on the part of Clyde, she was becoming

most familiar were recorded as present. Sondra Finchley,

Bertine Cranston, the Trumbull girls, Perley Haynes. He had

said it had not been very interesting, and here it was

spoken of as gay and he himself was listed for another

engagement of the same character New Year’s Eve, when,

as a matter of fact, she had been counting on being with

him. He had not even mentioned this New Year’s

engagement. And perhaps he would now make some last

minute excuse for that, as he had for the previous Friday

evening. Oh, dear! What did all this mean, anyhow!

Immediately what little romantic glamour this Christmas

homecoming had held for her was dissipated. She began to

wonder whether Clyde really cared for her as he had

pretended. The dark state to which her incurable passion

for him had brought her now pained her terribly. For without

him and marriage and a home and children, and a

An American Tragedy

517

reasonable place in such a local world as she was

accustomed to, what was there for a girl like her in the

world? And apart from his own continuing affection for her—

if it was really continuing, what assurance had she, in the

face of such incidents as these, that he would not

eventually desert her? And if this was true, here was her

future, in so far as marriage with any one else was

concerned, compromised or made impossible, maybe, and

with no reliance to be placed on him.

She fell absolutely silent. And although Gabel inquired:

“That’s the fellow, isn’t it?” she arose without answering and

said: “Excuse me, please, a moment. I want to get

something out of my bag,” and hurried once more to her

former room upstairs. Once there she sat down on the bed,

and, resting her chin in her hands, a habit when

troublesome or necessary thoughts controlled her, gazed at

the floor.

Where was Clyde now?

What one, if any, of those girls did he take to the Steele

party? Was he very much interested in her? Until this very

day, because of Clyde’s unbroken devotion to her, she had

not even troubled to think there could be any other girl to

whom his attentions could mean anything.

But now—now!

She got up and walked to the window and looked out on

that same orchard where as a girl so many times she had

been thrilled by the beauty of life. The scene was miserably

bleak and bare. The thin, icy arms of the trees—the gray,

swaying twigs—a lone, rustling leaf somewhere. And snow.

And wretched outbuildings in need of repair. And Clyde

becoming indifferent to her. And the thought now came to

her swiftly and urgently that she must not stay here any

An American Tragedy

518

longer than she could help—not even this day, if possible.

She must return to Lycurgus and be near Clyde, if no more

than to persuade him to his old affection for her, or if not

that, then by her presence to prevent him from devoting

himself too wholly to these others. Decidedly, to go away

like this, even for the holidays, was not good. In her

absence he might desert her completely for another girl,

and if so, then would it not be her fault? At once she

pondered as to what excuse she could make in order to

return this day. But realizing that in view of all these

preliminary preparations this would seem inexplicably

unreasonable, to her mother most of all, she decided to

endure it as she had planned until Christmas afternoon,

then to return, never to leave for so long a period again.

But ad interim, all her thoughts were on how and in what

way she could make more sure, if at all, of Clyde’s

continued interest and social and emotional support, as well

as marriage in the future. Supposing he had lied to her,

how could she influence him, if at all, not to do so again?

How to make him feel that lying between them was not

right? How to make herself securely first in his heart against

the dreams engendered by the possible charms of another?

How?

An American Tragedy

519

Chapter 30

BUT Roberta’s return to Lycurgus and her room at the

Gilpins’ Christmas night brought no sign of Clyde nor any

word of explanation. For in connection with the Griffiths in

the meantime there had been a development relating to all

this which, could she or Clyde have known, would have

interested both not a little. For subsequent to the Steele

dance that same item read by Roberta fell under the eyes

of Gilbert. He was seated at the breakfast table the Sunday

morning after the party and was about to sip from a cup of

coffee when he encountered it. On the instant his teeth

snapped about as a man might snap his watch lid, and

instead of drinking he put his cup down and examined the

item with more care. Other than his mother there was no

one at the table or in the room with him, but knowing that

she, more than any of the others, shared his views in

regard to Clyde, he now passed the paper over to her.

“Look at who’s breaking into society now, will you?” he

admonished sharply and sarcastically, his eyes radiating

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240

Categories: Dreiser, Theodore
curiosity: