An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

that might come of it. What Gilbert would say if he did hear.

And so both he and she, as well as Grace, were dubious on

the instant about the wisdom of riding back together.

Grace’s own reputation, as well as the fact that she knew

Clyde was not interested in her, piqued her. And Roberta,

realizing this from her manner, said: “What do you think we

had better do, excuse ourselves?”

At once Roberta tried to think just how they could extricate

themselves gracefully without offending Clyde. Personally

she was so enchanted that had she been alone she would

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have preferred to have ridden back with him. But with

Grace here and in this cautious mood, never. She must

think up some excuse.

And at the same time, Clyde was wondering just how he

was to do now—ride in with them and brazenly face the

possibility of being seen by some one who might carry the

news to Gilbert Griffiths or evade doing so on some pretext

or other. He could think of none, however, and was about to

turn and accompany them to the car when the young

electrician, Shurlock, who lived in the Newton household

and who had been on the balcony of the pavilion, hailed

them. He was with a friend who had a small car, and they

were ready to return to the city.

“Well, here’s luck,” he exclaimed. “How are you, Miss

Alden? How do you do, Miss Marr? You two don’t happen

to be going our way, do you? If you are, we can take you in

with us.”

Not only Roberta but Clyde heard. And at once she was

about to say that, since it was a little late and she and

Grace were scheduled to attend church services with the

Newtons, it would be more convenient for them to return

this way. She was, however, half hoping that Shurlock

would invite Clyde and that he would accept. But on his

doing so, Clyde instantly refused. He explained that he had

decided to stay out a little while longer. And so Roberta left

him with a look that conveyed clearly enough the gratitude

and delight she felt. They had had such a good time. And

he in turn, in spite of many qualms as to the wisdom of all

this, fell to brooding on how sad it was that just he and

Roberta might not have remained here for hours longer.

And immediately after they had gone, he returned to the city

alone.

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The next morning he was keener than ever to see Roberta

again. And although the peculiarly exposed nature of the

work at the factory made it impossible for him to

demonstrate his feelings, still by the swift and admiring and

seeking smiles that played over his face and blazed in his

eyes, she knew that he was as enthusiastic, if not more so,

as on the night before. And on her part, although she felt

that a crisis of some sort was impending, and in spite of the

necessity of a form of secrecy which she resented, she

could not refrain from giving him a warm and quite yielding

glance in return. The wonder of his being interested in her!

The wonder and the thrill!

Clyde decided at once that his attentions were still

welcome. Also that he might risk saying something to her,

supposing that a suitable opportunity offered. And so, after

waiting an hour and seeing two fellow workers leave from

either side of her, he seized the occasion to drift near and

to pick up one of the collars she had just stamped, saying,

as though talking about that: “I was awfully sorry to have to

leave you last night. I wish we were out there again to-day

instead of here, just you and me, don’t you?”

Roberta turned, conscious that now was the time to decide

whether she would encourage or discourage any attention

on his part. At the same time she was almost faintingly

eager to accept his attentions regardless of the problem in

connection with them. His eyes! His hair! His hands! And

then instead of rebuking or chilling him in any way, she only

looked, but with eyes too weak and melting to mean

anything less than yielding and uncertainty. Clyde saw that

she was hopelessly and helplessly drawn to him, as indeed

he was to her. On the instant he was resolved to say

something more, when he could, as to where they could

meet when no one was along, for it was plain that she was

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no more anxious to be observed than he was. He well knew

more sharply to-day than ever before that he was treading

on dangerous ground.

He began to make mistakes in his calculations, to feel that,

with her so near him, he was by no means concentrating on

the various tasks before him. She was too enticing, too

compelling in so many ways to him. There was something

so warm and gay and welcome about her that he felt that if

he could persuade her to love him he would be among the

most fortunate of men. Yet there was that rule, and

although on the lake the day before he had been deciding

that his position here was by no means as satisfactory as it

should be, still with Roberta in it, as now it seemed she well

might be, would it not be much more delightful for him to

stay? Could he not, for the time being at least, endure the

further indifference of the Griffiths? And who knows, might

they not yet become interested in him as a suitable social

figure if only he did nothing to offend them? And yet here

he was attempting to do exactly the thing he had been

forbidden to do. What kind of an injunction was this,

anyhow, wherewith Gilbert had enjoined him? If he could

come to some understanding with her, perhaps she would

meet him in some clandestine way and thus obviate all

possibility of criticism.

It was thus that Clyde, seated at his desk or walking about,

was thinking. For now his mind, even in the face of his

duties, was almost entirely engaged by her, and he could

think of nothing else. He had decided to suggest that they

meet for the first time, if she would, in a small park which

was just west of the first outlying resort on the Mohawk. But

throughout the day, so close to each other did the girls

work, he had no opportunity to communicate with her.

Indeed noontime came and he went below to his lunch,

returning a little early in the hope of finding her sufficiently

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detached to permit him to whisper that he wished to see her

somewhere. But she was surrounded by others at the time

and so the entire afternoon went by without a single

opportunity.

However, as he was going out, he bethought him that if he

should chance to meet her alone somewhere in the street,

he would venture to speak to her. For she wanted him to—

that he knew, regardless of what she might say at any time.

And he must find some way that would appear as

accidental and hence as innocent to her as to others. But

as the whistle blew and she left the building she was joined

by another girl, and he was left to think of some other way.

That same evening, however, instead of lingering about the

Peyton house or going to a moving picture theater, as he so

often did now, or walking alone somewhere in order to allay

his unrest and loneliness, he chose now instead to seek out

the home of Roberta on Taylor Street. It was not a pleasing

house, as he now decided, not nearly so attractive as Mrs.

Cuppy’s or the house in which he now dwelt. It was too old

and brown, the neighborhood too nondescript, if

conservative. But the lights in different rooms glowing at

this early hour gave it a friendly and genial look. And the

few trees in front were pleasant. What was Roberta doing

now? Why couldn’t she have waited for him in the factory?

Why couldn’t she sense now that he was outside and come

out? He wished intensely that in some way he could make

her feel that he was out here, and so cause her to come

out. But she didn’t. On the contrary, he observed Mr.

Shurlock issue forth and disappear toward Central Avenue.

And, after that, pedestrian after pedestrian making their

way out of different houses along the street and toward

Central, which caused him to walk briskly about the block in

order to avoid being seen. At the same time he sighed

often, because it was such a fine night—a full moon rising

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