Американская трагедия

Chapter 47

           AndRoberta,afterClydehadextractedthelunchmostcautiouslyfromhisbag,spreadingitonanewspaperontheshore,whilehewalkedhereandthere,makingstrainedandyetadmiringcommentsonthebeautyofthescene—thepinesandthecurveofthissmallbay,yetthinking—thinking,thinkingoftheislandfartheronandthebaybelowthatagainsomewhere,wheresomehow,andinthefaceofaweakeningcourageforit,hemuststillexecutethisgrimandterriblebusinessbeforehim—notallowthiscarefullyplannedopportunitytogofornothing—if—if—heweretonotreallyrunawayandleaveallthathemostdesiredtokeep.

           Andyetthehorrorofthisbusinessandthedanger,nowthatitwassocloseathand—thedangerofmakingamistakeofsomekind—ifnothingmore,ofnotupsettingtheboatright—ofnotbeingableto—to—oh,God!Andsubsequently,maybe,tobeprovedtobewhathewouldbe—then—amurderer.Arrested!Tried.(Hecouldnot,hewouldnot,gothroughwithit.No,no,no!)

           AndyetRoberta,sittingherewithhimnowonthesand,feelingquiteatpeacewithalltheworldashecouldsee.Andshewasbeginningtohumalittle,andthentomakeadvisoryandpracticalreferencestothenatureoftheircomingadventuretogether—theirmaterialandfinancialstatefromnowon—howandwheretheywouldgofromhere—Syracuse,mostlikely—sinceClydeseemedtohavenoobjectiontothat—andwhat,oncethere,theywoulddo.

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