An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

he would accompany her—a request which, since he had

not succeeded in doing anything, and although he had an

engagement with Sondra, he instantly acceded to—feeling

it to be of greater importance than anything else. He must

excuse himself to Sondra on the ground of work.

And accordingly this second trip was made, a long and

nervous conversation between himself and Roberta on the

way resulting in nothing more than some explanations as to

why thus far he had not been able to achieve anything, plus

certain encomiums addressed to her concerning her

courage in acting for herself in this way.

An American Tragedy

606

Yet the doctor again would not and did not act. After waiting

nearly an hour for his return from somewhere, she was

merely permitted to tell him of her unchanged state and her

destroying fears in regard to herself, but with no hint from

him that he could be induced to act as indeed he could act.

It was against his prejudices and ethics.

And so once more Roberta returned, this time not crying,

actually too sad to cry, choked with the weight of her

impending danger and the anticipatory fears and miseries

that attended it.

And Clyde, hearing of this defeat, was at last reduced to a

nervous, gloomy silence, absolutely devoid of a helpful

suggestion. He could not think what to say and was chiefly

fearful lest Roberta now make some demand with which

socially or economically he could not comply. However, in

regard to this she said little on the way home. Instead she

sat and stared out of the window—thinking of her

defenseless predicament that was becoming more real and

terrible to her hourly. By way of excuse she pleaded that

she had a headache. She wanted to be alone—only to think

more—to try to work out a solution. She must work out

some way. That she knew. But what? How? What could

she do? How could she possibly escape? She felt like a

cornered animal fighting for its life with all odds against it,

and she thought of a thousand remote and entirely

impossible avenues of escape, only to return to the one and

only safe and sound solution that she really felt should be

possible—and that was marriage. And why not? Hadn’t she

given him all, and that against her better judgment? Hadn’t

he overpersuaded her? Who was he anyway to so cast her

aside? For decidedly at times, and especially since this

latest crisis had developed, his manner, because of Sondra

and the Griffiths and what he felt to be the fatal effect of all

An American Tragedy

607

this on his dreams here, was sufficient to make plain that

love was decidedly dead, and that he was not thinking

nearly so much of the meaning of her state to her, as he

was of its import to him, the injury that was most certain to

accrue to him. And when this did not completely terrify her,

as mostly it did, it served to irritate and slowly develop the

conclusion that in such a desperate state as this, she was

justified in asking more than ordinarily she would have

dreamed of asking, marriage itself, since there was no

other door. And why not? Wasn’t her life as good as his?

And hadn’t he joined his to hers, voluntarily? Then, why

shouldn’t he strive to help her now—or, failing that, make

this final sacrifice which was the only one by which she

could be rescued apparently. For who were all the society

people with whom he was concerned anyhow? And why

should he ask her in such a crisis to sacrifice herself, her

future and good name, just because of his interest in them?

They had never done anything very much for him, certainly

not as much as had she. And, just because he was

wearying now, after persuading her to do his bidding—was

that any reason why now, in this crisis, he should be

permitted to desert her? After all, wouldn’t all of these

society people in whom he was so much interested feel that

whatever his relationship to them, she would be justified in

taking the course which she might be compelled to take?

She brooded on this much, more especially on the return

from this second attempt to induce Dr. Glenn to help her. In

fact, at moments, her face took on a defiant, determined

look which was seemingly new to her, but which only

developed suddenly under such pressure. Her jaw became

a trifle set. She had made a decision. He would have to

marry her. She must make him if there were no other way

out of this. She must—she must. Think of her home, her

mother, Grace Marr, the Newtons, all who knew her in fact—

An American Tragedy

608

the terror and pain and shame with which this would sear

all those in any way identified with her—her father, brothers,

sisters. Impossible! Impossible! It must not and could not

be! Impossible. It might seem a little severe to her, even

now, to have to insist on this, considering all the emphasis

Clyde had hitherto laid upon his prospects here. But how,

how else was she to do?

Accordingly the next day, and not a little to his surprise,

since for so many hours the night before they had been

together, Clyde received another note telling him that he

must come again that night. She had something to say to

him, and there was something in the tone of the note that

seemed to indicate or suggest a kind of defiance of a

refusal of any kind, hitherto absent in any of her

communications to him. And at once the thought that this

situation, unless cleared away, was certain to prove

disastrous, so weighed upon him that he could not but put

the best face possible on it and consent to go and hear

what it was that she had to offer in the way of a solution—or

—on the other hand, of what she had to complain.

Going to her room at a late hour, he found her in what

seemed to him a more composed frame of mind than at

any time since this difficulty had appeared, a state which

surprised him a little, since he had expected to find her in

tears. But now, if anything, she appeared more complacent,

her nervous thoughts as to how to bring about a satisfactory

conclusion for herself having called into play a native

shrewdness which was now seeking to exercise itself.

And so directly before announcing what was in her mind,

she began by asking: “You haven’t found out about another

doctor, have you, Clyde, or thought of anything?”

“No, I haven’t, Bert,” he replied most dismally and

wearisomely, his own mental tether-length having been

An American Tragedy

609

strained to the breaking point. “I’ve been trying to, as you

know, but it’s so darn hard to find any one who isn’t afraid

to monkey with a case like this. Honest, to tell the truth,

Bert, I’m about stumped. I don’t know what we are going to

do unless you can think of something. You haven’t thought

or heard of any one else you could go to, have you?” For,

during the conversation that had immediately followed her

first visit to the doctor, he had hinted to her that by striking

up a fairly intimate relationship with one of the foreign family

girls, she might by degrees extract some information there

which would be of use to both. But Roberta was not of a

temperament that permitted of any such facile friendships,

and nothing had come of it.

However, his stating that he was “stumped” now gave her

the opportunity she was really desiring, to present the

proposition which she felt to be unavoidable and not longer

to be delayed. Yet being fearful of how Clyde would react,

she hesitated as to the form in which she would present it,

and, after shaking her head and manifesting a nervousness

which was real enough, she finally said: “Well, I’ll tell you,

Clyde. I’ve been thinking about it and I don’t see any way

out of it unless—unless you, well, marry me. It’s two months

now, you know, and unless we get married right away,

everybody’ll know, won’t they?”

Her manner as she said this was a mixture of outward

courage born out of her conviction that she was in the right

and an inward uncertainty about Clyde’s attitude, which was

all the more fused by a sudden look of surprise,

resentment, uncertainty and fear that now transformation-

wise played over his countenance; a variation and play

which, if it indicated anything definite, indicated that she

was seeking to inflict an unwarranted injury on him. For

since he had been drawing closer and closer to Sondra, his

hopes had heightened so intensely that, hearkening to this

An American Tragedy

610

demand on the part of Roberta now, his brow wrinkled and