An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

could. But on condition, of course, that never anywhere,

unless he gave her permission, must she assert that he had

married her, or point to him in any way as the father of her

child. Also it was understood that she, as she herself had

asserted over and over that she would, if only he would do

this—marry her—take steps to free herself on the ground of

desertion, or something, in some place sufficiently removed

from Lycurgus for no one to hear. And that within a

reasonable time after her marriage to him, although he was

not at all satisfied that, assuming that he did marry her, she

would.

But Clyde, of course, was insincere in regard to all his

overtures at this time, and really not concerned as to her

sincerity or insincerity. Nor did he have any intention of

leaving Lycurgus even for the moderate length of time that

her present extrication would require unless he had to. For

that meant that he would be separated from Sondra, and

such absence, for whatever period, would most definitely

interfere with his plans. And so, on the contrary, he drifted—

thinking most idly at times of some possible fake or mock

marriage such as he had seen in some melodramatic movie

—a fake minister and witnesses combining to deceive

some simple country’ girl such as Roberta was not, but at

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such expense of time, resources, courage and subtlety as

Clyde himself, after a little reflection, was wise enough to

see was beyond him.

Again, knowing that, unless some hitherto unforeseen aid

should eventuate, he was heading straight toward a

disaster which could not much longer be obviated, he even

allowed himself to dream that, once the fatal hour was at

hand and Roberta, no longer to be put off by any form of

subterfuge, was about to expose him, he might even flatly

deny that he had ever held any such relationship with her

as then she would be charging—rather that at all times his

relationship with her had been that of a department

manager to employee—no more. Terror—no less!

But at the same time, early in May, when Roberta, because

of various gestative signs and ailments, was beginning to

explain, as well as insist, to Clyde that by no stretch of the

imagination or courage could she be expected to retain her

position at the factory or work later than June first, because

by then the likelihood of the girls there beginning to notice

something, would be too great for her to endure, Sondra

was beginning to explain that not so much later than the

fourth or fifth of June she and her mother and Stuart,

together with some servants, would be going to their new

lodge at Twelfth Lake in order to supervise certain

installations then being made before the regular season

should begin. And after that, not later than the eighteenth,

at which time the Cranstons, Harriets, and some others

would have arrived, including very likely visits from Bella

and Myra, he might expect a week-end invitation from the

Cranstons, with whom, through Bertine, she would arrange

as to this. And after that, the general circumstances proving

fairly propitious, there would be, of course, other week-end

invitations to the Harriets’, Phants’ and some others who

dwelt there, as well as to the Griffiths’ at Greenwood, to

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625

which place, on account of Bella, he could easily come. And

during his two weeks’ vacation in July, he could either stop

at the Casino, which was at Pine Point, or perhaps the

Cranstons or Harriets, at her suggestion, might choose to

invite him. At any rate, as Clyde could see, and with no

more than such expenditures as, with a little scrimping

during his ordinary working days here, he could provide for,

he might see not a little of that lake life of which he had

read so much in the local papers, to say nothing of Sondra

at one and another of the lodges, the masters of which

were not so inimical to his presence and overtures as were

Sondra’s parents.

For now it was, and for the first time, as she proceeded to

explain to him that her mother and father, because of his

continued and reported attentions to her, were already

beginning to talk of an extended European tour which might

keep her and Stuart and her mother abroad for at least the

next two years. But since, at news of this, Clyde’s face as

well as his spirits darkened, and she herself was sufficiently

enmeshed to suffer because of this, she at once added that

he must not feel so bad—he must not; things would work

out well enough, she knew. For at the proper time, and

unless between then and now, something—her own subtle

attack if not her at present feverish interest in Clyde—

should have worked to alter her mother’s viewpoint in

regard to him—she might be compelled to take some steps

of her own in order to frustrate her mother. Just what, she

was not willing to say at this time, although to Clyde’s

overheated imagination it took the form of an elopement

and marriage, which could not then be gainsaid by her

parents whatever they might think. And it was true that in a

vague and as yet repressed way some such thought was

beginning to form in Sondra’s mind. For, as she now

proceeded to explain to Clyde, it was so plain that her

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mother was attempting to steer her in the direction of a

purely social match—the one with the youth who had been

paying her such marked attention the year before. But

because of her present passion for Clyde, as she now gayly

declared, it was not easy to see how she was to be made to

comply. “The only trouble with me is that I’m not of age yet,”

she here added briskly and slangily. “They’ve got me there,

of course. But I will be by next October and they can’t do

very much with me after that, I want to let you know. I can

marry the person I want, I guess. And if I can’t do it here,

well, there are more ways than one to kill a cat.”

The thought was like some sweet, disarranging poison to

Clyde. It fevered and all but betrayed him mentally. If only—

if only—it were not for Roberta now. That terrifying and all

but insoluble problem. But for that, and the opposition of

Sondra’s parents which she was thinking she would be able

to overcome, did not heaven itself await him? Sondra,

Twelfth Lake, society, wealth, her love and beauty. He grew

not a little wild in thinking of it all. Once he and she were

married, what could Sondra’s relatives do? What, but

acquiesce and take them into the glorious bosom of their

resplendent home at Lycurgus or provide for them in some

other way—he to no doubt eventually take some place in

connection with the Finchley Electric Sweeper Company.

And then would he not be the equal, if not the superior, of

Gilbert Griffiths himself and all those others who originally

had ignored him here—joint heir with Stuart to all the

Finchley means. And with Sondra as the central or

crowning jewel to so much sudden and such Aladdin-like

splendor.

No thought as to how he was to overcome the time

between now and October. No serious consideration of the

fact that Roberta then and there was demanding that he

marry her. He could put her off, he thought. And yet, at the

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same time, he was painfully and nervously conscious of the

fact that at no period in his life before had he been so

treacherously poised at the very brink of disaster. It might

be his duty as the world would see it—his mother would say

so—to at least extricate Roberta. But in the case of Esta,

who had come to her rescue? Her lover? He had walked off

from her without a qualm and she had not died. And why,

when Roberta was no worse off than his sister had been,

why should she seek to destroy him in this way? Force him

to do something which would be little less than social,

artistic, passional or emotional assassination? And when

later, if she would but spare him for this, he could do so

much more for her—with Sondra’s money of course. He

could not and would not let her do this to him. His life would

be ruined!

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Chapter 40

TWO incidents which occurred at this time tended still more

to sharpen the contrary points of view holding between

Clyde and Roberta. One of these was no more than a

glimpse which Roberta had one evening of Clyde pausing

at the Central Avenue curb in front of the post-office to say

a few words to Arabella Stark, who in a large and