An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

here—that street you live in, if you wish. There are no

houses out there. Or there’s a little park—Mohawk—just

west of Dreamland on the Mohawk Street line. It’s right on

the river. You might come out there. I could meet you

where the car stops. Will you do that?”

“Oh, I’d be afraid to do that I think—go so far, I mean. I

never did anything like that before.” She looked so innocent

and frank as she said this that Clyde was quite carried

away by the sweetness of her. And to think he was making

a clandestine appointment with her. “I’m almost afraid to go

anywhere here alone, you know. People talk so here, they

say, and some one would be sure to see me. But——”

“Yes, but what?”

“I’m afraid I’m staying too long at your desk here, don’t you

think?” She actually gasped as she said it. And Clyde

realizing the openness of it, although there was really

nothing very unusual about it, now spoke quickly and

forcefully.

An American Tragedy

399

“Well, then, how about the end of that street you live in?

Couldn’t you come down there for just a little while to-night

—a half hour or so, maybe?”

“Oh, I couldn’t make it to-night, I think—not so soon. I’ll

have to see first, you know. Arrange, that is. But another

day.” She was so excited and troubled by this great

adventure of hers that her face, like Clyde’s at times,

changed from a half smile to a half frown without her

realizing that it was registering these changes.

“Well, then, how about Wednesday night at eight-thirty or

nine? Couldn’t you do that? Please, now.”

Roberta considered most sweetly, nervously. Clyde was

enormously fascinated by her manner at the moment, for

she looked around, conscious, or so she seemed, that she

was being observed and that her stay here for a first visit

was very long.

“I suppose I’d better be going back to my work now,” she

replied without really answering him.

“Wait a minute,” pled Clyde. “We haven’t fixed on the time

for Wednesday. Aren’t you going to meet me? Make it nine

or eight-thirty, or any time you want to. I’ll be there waiting

for you after eight if you wish. Will you?”

“All right, then, say eight-thirty or between eight-thirty and

nine, if I can. Is that all right? I’ll come if I can, you know,

and if anything does happen I’ll tell you the next morning,

you see.” She flushed and then looked around once more,

a foolish, flustered look, then hurried back to her bench,

fairly tingling from head to toe, and looking as guilty as

though she had been caught red-handed in some dreadful

crime. And Clyde at his desk was almost choking with

excitement. The wonder of her agreeing, of his talking to

An American Tragedy

400

her like that, of her venturing to make a date with him at all

here in Lycurgus, where he was so well-known! Thrilling!

For her part, she was thinking how wonderful it would be

just to walk and talk with him in the moonlight, to feel the

pressure of his arm and hear his soft appealing voice.

An American Tragedy

401

Chapter 17

IT WAS quite dark when Roberta stole out on Wednesday

night to meet Clyde. But before that what qualms and

meditations in the face of her willingness and her

agreement to do so. For not only was it difficult for her to

overcome her own mental scruples within, but in addition

there was all the trouble in connection with the

commonplace and religious and narrow atmosphere in

which she found herself imbedded at the Newtons’. For

since coming here she had scarcely gone anywhere without

Grace Marr. Besides on this occasion—a thing she had

forgotten in talking to Clyde—she had agreed to go with the

Newtons and Grace to the Gideon Baptist Church, where a

Wednesday prayer meeting was to be followed by a social

with games, cake, tea and ice cream.

In consequence she was troubled severely as to how to

manage, until it came back to her that a day or two before

Mr. Liggett, in noting how rapid and efficient she was, had

observed that at any time she wanted to learn one phase of

the stitching operations going on in the next room, he would

have her taken in hand by Mrs. Braley, who would teach

her. And now that Clyde’s invitation and this church affair

fell on the same night, she decided to say that she had an

appointment with Mrs. Braley at her home. Only, as she

also decided, she would wait until just before dinner

Wednesday and then say that Mrs. Braley had invited her to

come to her house. Then she could see Clyde. And by the

time the Newtons and Grace returned she could be back.

An American Tragedy

402

Oh, how it would feel to have him talk to her—say again as

he did in the boat that he never had seen any one look so

pretty as she did standing on the bank and looking for water

lilies. Many, many thoughts—vague, dreadful, colorful,

came to her—how and where they might go—be—do—

from now on, if only she could arrange to be friends with

him without harm to her or him. If need be, she now

decided, she could resign from the factory and get a place

somewhere else—a change which would absolve Clyde

from any responsibility in regard to her.

There was, however, another mental as well as emotional

phase in regard to all this and that related to her clothes.

For since coming to Lycurgus she had learned that the

more intelligent girls here dressed better than did those

about Biltz and Trippetts Mills. At the same time she had

been sending a fair portion of her money to her mother—

sufficient to have equipped her exceptionally well, as she

now realized, had she retained it. But now that Clyde was

swaying her so greatly she was troubled about her looks,

and on the evening after her conversation with him at the

mill, she had gone through her small wardrobe, fixing upon

a soft blue hat which Clyde had not yet seen, together with

a checkered blue and white flannel skirt and a pair of white

canvas shoes purchased the previous summer at Biltz. Her

plan was to wait until the Newtons and Grace had departed

for church and then swiftly dress and leave.

At eight-thirty, when night had finally fallen, she went east

along Taylor to Central Avenue, then by a circuitous route

made her way west again to the trysting place. And Clyde

was already there. Against an old wooden fence that

enclosed a five-acre cornfield, he was leaning and looking

back toward the interesting little city, the lights in so many

of the homes of which were aglow through the trees. The

air was laden with spices—the mingled fragrance of many

An American Tragedy

403

grasses and flowers. There was a light wind stirring in the

long swords of the corn at his back—in the leaves of the

trees overhead. And there were stars—the big dipper and

the little dipper and the milky way—sidereal phenomena

which his mother had pointed out to him long ago.

And he was thinking how different was his position here to

what it had been in Kansas City. There he had been so

nervous in regard to Hortense Briggs or any girl, really—

afraid almost to say a word to any of them. Whereas here,

and especially since he had had charge of this stamping

room, he had seemed to become aware of the fact that he

was more attractive than he had ever thought he was

before. Also that the girls were attracted to him and that he

was not so much afraid of them. The eyes of Roberta

herself showed him this day how much she was drawn to

him. She was his girl. And when she came, he would put

his arms around her and kiss her. And she would not be

able to resist him.

He stood listening, dreaming and watching, the rustling corn

behind him stirring an old recollection in him, when

suddenly he saw her coming. She looked trim and brisk and

yet nervous, and paused at the street end and looked about

like a frightened and cautious animal. At once Clyde hurried

forward toward her and called softly: “Hello. Gee, it’s nice to

have you meet me. Did you have any trouble?” He was

thinking how much more pleasing she was than either

Hortense Briggs or Rita Dickerman, the one so calculating,

the other so sensually free and indiscriminate.

“Did I have any trouble? Oh, didn’t I though?” And at once

she plunged into a full and picturesque account, not only of

the mistake in regard to the Newtons’ church night and her

engagement with them, but of a determination on the part