An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

more—so that falling in the water, she will drown the more

easily.

Do not fear!

Do not be weak!

Walk through the woods by night, not by day—so that when

seen again you will be in Three Mile Bay or Sharon—and

can say that you came from Racquette or Long Lake south,

or from Lycurgus north.

Use a false name and alter your handwriting as much as

possible.

Assume that you will be successful.

And whisper, whisper—let your language be soft, your tone

tender, loving, even. It must be, if you are to win her to your

will now.

So the Efrit of his own darker self.

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Chapter 46

AND then at noon on Tuesday, July sixth, the station

platform of the railroad running from Fonda to Utica, with

Roberta stepping down from the train which came south

from Biltz to await Clyde, for the train that was to take them

to Utica was not due for another half hour. And fifteen

minutes later Clyde himself coming from a side street and

approaching the station from the south, from which position

Roberta could not see him but from where, after turning the

west corner of the depot and stationing himself behind a

pile of crates, he could see her. How thin and pale indeed!

By contrast with Sondra, how illy-dressed in the blue

traveling suit and small brown hat with which she had

equipped herself for this occasion—the promise of a

restricted and difficult life as contrasted with that offered by

Sondra. And she was thinking of compelling him to give up

Sondra in order to marry her, and from which union he

might never be able to extricate himself until such time as

would make Sondra and all she represented a mere

recollection. The difference between the attitudes of these

two girls—Sondra with everything offering all—asking

nothing of him; Roberta, with nothing, asking all.

A feeling of dark and bitter resentment swept over him and

he could not help but feel sympathetic toward that unknown

man at Pass Lake and secretly wish that he had been

successful. Perhaps he, too, had been confronted by a

situation just like this. And perhaps he had done right, too,

after all, and that was why it had not been found out. His

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nerves twitched. His eyes were somber, resentful and yet

nervous. Could it not happen again successfully in this

case?

But here he was now upon the same platform with her as

the result of her persistent and illogical demands, and he

must be thinking how, and boldly, he must carry out the

plans which, for four days, or ever since he had telephoned

her, and in a dimmer way for the ten preceding those, he

had been planning. This settled course must not be

interfered with now. He must act! He must not let fear

influence him to anything less than he had now planned.

And so it was that he now stepped forth in order that she

might see him, at the same time giving her a wise and

seemingly friendly and informative look as if to say, “You

see I am here.” But behind the look! If only she could have

pierced beneath the surface and sensed that dark and

tortured mood, how speedily she would have fled. But now

seeing him actually present, a heavy shadow that was

lurking in her eyes lifted, the somewhat down-turned

corners of her mouth reversed themselves, and without

appearing to recognize him, she nevertheless brightened

and at once proceeded to the window to purchase her ticket

to Utica, as he had instructed her to do.

And she was now thinking that at last, at last he had come.

And he was going to take her away. And hence a kind of

gratefulness for this welling up in her. For they were to be

together for seven or eight months at the least. And while it

might take tact and patience to adjust things, still it might

and probably could be done. From now on she must be the

very soul of caution—not do or say anything that would

irritate him in any way, since naturally he would not be in

the best mood because of this. But he must have changed

some—perhaps he was seeing her in a more kindly light—

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sympathizing with her a little, since he now appeared at last

to have most gracefully and genially succumbed to the

unavoidable. And at the same time noting his light gray suit,

his new straw hat, his brightly polished shoes and the dark

tan suitcase and (strange, equivocal, frivolous erraticism of

his in this instance) the tripod of a recently purchased

camera together with his tennis racquet in its canvas case

strapped to the side—more than anything to conceal the

initials C. G.—she was seized with much of her old-time

mood and desire in regard to his looks and temperament.

He was still, and despite his present indifference to her, her

Clyde.

Having seen her secure her ticket, he now went to get his

own, and then, with another knowing look in her direction,

which said that everything was now all right, he returned to

the eastern end of the platform, while she returned to her

position at the forward end.

(Why was that old man in that old brown winter suit and hat

and carrying that bird cage in a brown paper lookingat him

so? Could he sense anything? Did he know him? Had he

ever worked in Lycurgus or seen him before?)

He was going to buy a second straw hat in Utica to-day—he

must remember that—a straw hat with a Utica label, which

he would wear instead of his present one. Then, when she

was not looking, he would put the old one in his bag with

his other things. That was why he would have to leave her

for a little while after they reached Utica—at the depot or

library or somewhere—perhaps as was his first plan, take

her to some small hotel somewhere and register as Mr. and

Mrs. Carl Graham or Clifford Golden or Gehring (there was

a girl in the factory by that name) so if they were ever

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traced in any way, it would be assumed that she had gone

away with some man of that name.

(That whistle of a train afar off. It must be coming now. His

watch said twelve-twenty-seven.)

And again he must decide what his manner toward her in

Utica must be—whether very cordial or the opposite. For

over the telephone, of course, he had talked very soft and

genial-like because he had to. Perhaps it would be best to

keep that up, otherwise she might become angry or

suspicious or stubborn and that would make it hard.

(Would that train never get here?)

At the same time it was going to be very hard on him to be

so very pleasant when, after all, she was driving him as she

was—expecting him to do all that she was asking him to do

and yet be nice to her. Damn! And yet if he weren’t?—

Supposing she should sense something of his thoughts in

connection with this—really refuse to go through with it this

way and spoil his plans.

(If only his knees and hands wouldn’t tremble so at times.)

But no, how was she to be able to detect anything of that

kind, when he himself had not quite made up his mind as to

whether he would be able to go through with it or not? He

only knew he was not going away with her, and that was all

there was to that. He might not upset the boat, as he had

decided on the day before, but just the same he was not

going away with her.

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But here now was the train. And there was Roberta lifting

her bag. Was it too heavy for her in her present state? It

probably was. Well, too bad. It was very hot to-day, too. At

any rate he would help her with it later, when they were

where no one could see them. She was looking toward him

to be sure he was getting on—so like her these days, in her

suspicious, doubtful mood in regard to him. But here was a

seat in the rear of the car on the shady side, too. That was

not so bad. He would settle himself comfortably and look

out. For just outside Fonda, a mile or two beyond, was that

same Mohawk that ran through Lycurgus and past the

factory, and along the banks of which the year before, he

and Roberta had walked about this time. But the memory of

that being far from pleasant now, he turned his eyes to a

paper he had bought, and behind which he could shield

himself as much as possible, while he once more began to