Американская трагедия

Chapter 31

           ThatnightNicholson’sremovalfromhiscell—andthenextmorningbeforedawnthecurtains;thesameprocessionpassingthrough,whichwasbynowanoldstorytoClyde.Butsomehowthiswassodifferent—sointimate—socruel.Andashepassed,calling:"Godblessyouall.Ihopeyouhavegoodluckandgetout."Andthenthatterriblestillnessthatfollowedthepassingofeachman.

           AndClydethereafter—lonely—terriblyso.Nowtherewasnoonehere—noone—inwhomhewasinterested.Hecouldonlysitandread—andthink—orpretendtobeinterestedinwhattheseotherssaid,forhecouldnotreallybeinterestedinwhattheysaid.Hiswasamindthat,freedfromthemiseriesthathadnowbefallenhim,wasnaturallymoredrawntoromancethantoreality.Wherehereadatallhepreferredthelight,romanticnovelthatpicturedsomesuchworldashewouldhavelikedtoshare,toanythingthatevenapproximatedthehardrealityoftheworldwithout,letalonethis.Nowwhatwasgoingtobecomeofhimeventually?Soalonewashe!Onlylettersfromhismother,brotherandsisters.AndAsagettingnobetter,andhismothernotabletoreturnasyet—thingsweresodifficultthereinDenver.Shewasseekingareligiousschoolinwhichtoteachsomewhere—whilenursingAsa.ButshewasaskingtheRev.DuncanMcMillan,ayoungministerwhomshehadencounteredinSyracuse,inthecourseofherworkthere,tocomeandseehim.Hewassospiritualandsokindly.

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