Американская трагедия

Chapter 28

           

           ToClyde’sleft,inthecellnexttohim,avoice,toapassingguard,lowandyetdistinctlyaudible:"Psst!AnywordfromAlbanyyet?"

           "Noword,Herman."

           "Andnoletter,Isuppose."

           "Noletter."

           Thevoicewasverystrained,verytense,verymiserable,andafterthis,silence.

           Amomentlater,fromanothercellfartheroff,avoicefromthelowesthelltowhichasoulcandescend—completeandunutterabledespair—"Oh,myGod!Oh,myGod!Oh,myGod!"

           Andthenfromthetieraboveanothervoice:"Oh,Jesus!Isthatfarmergoingtobeginagain?Ican’tstandit.Guard!Guard!Can’tyougetsomedopeforthatguy?"

           Oncemorethevoicefromthelowest:"Oh,myGod!Oh,myGod!Oh,myGod!"

           Clydewasup,hisfingersclinched.Hisnerveswereastautascordsabouttosnap.Amurderer!Andabouttodie,perhaps.Orgrievingoversometerriblethinglikehisownfate.Moaning—asheinspiritatleasthadsooftenmoanedthereinBridgeburg.Cryinglikethat!God!Andtheremustbeothers!

           Anddayafterdayandnightafternightmoreofthis,nodoubt,until,maybe—whocouldtell—unless.But,oh,no!Oh,no!Nothimself—notthat—nothisday.Oh,no.Awholeyearmustelapsebeforethatcouldpossiblyhappen—orsoJephsonhadsaid.Maybetwo.But,atthat—!..

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