Американская трагедия

Chapter 47

           Butstillthereweretoomanypeople—asmanyastenonthelake.

           Theweirdnessofit.

           Thedifficulty.

           Butwhisper:—onecouldnotwalkfromherethroughanywoodstoThreeMileBay.Oh,no.Thatwasallofthirtymilestothesouthnow.Andbesidesthislakewaslesslonely—probablycontinuallyobservedbymembersofthisreligiousgroup.Oh,no—hemustsay—hemustsay—butwhat—couldhesay?Thathehadinquired,andthatnolicensecouldbeprocuredhere?Orthattheministerwasaway,orthatherequiredcertainidentificationswhichhedidnothave—or—or,well,well—anythingthatwouldservetostillRobertauntilsuchhourto-morrow,asthetrainsouthfromhereleftforBigBitternandSharon,where,ofcourse,theywouldsurelybemarried.

           Whyshouldshebesoinsistent?Andwhy,anyhow,andexceptforhercrassdeterminationtoforcehiminthisway,shouldhebecompelledtotrackhereandtherewithher—everyhour—everyminuteofwhichwastorture—anunendingmentalcrucifixionreally,when,ifhewerebutridofher!Oh,Sondra,Sondra,ifbutnowfromyourhighestate,youmightbenddownandaidme.Nomorelies!Nomoresuffering!Nomoremiseryofanykind!

           Butinstead,morelies.Alongandaimlessandpestilentialsearchforwater-lilies,whichbecauseofhisownrestlessmood,boredRobertaasmuchasitdidhim.

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