Американская трагедия

Chapter 8

           

           Whatwasitnowthaturgedhimtogetoutofthewateranddressandrun?Hurry!Hurry!Toyourtent!Tothewoods,quick!Untilatlastheedingthis,andwhilemostoftheotherswerenotlooking,hurryingtohistent,changingtotheoneplainbluebusinesssuitandcapthathestillpossessed,thenslippingintothewoodsbackofthecamp—outofsightandhearingofallpresentuntilheshouldbeabletothinkanddetermine,butkeepingalwayssafelyinlandoutofthedirectviewofthewater,forfear—forfear—whocouldtellexactlywhatthoseshotsmeant?

           YetSondra!AndherwordsofSaturdayandyesterdayandto-day.Couldheleaveherinthisway,withoutbeingsure?Couldhe?Herkisses!Herdearassurancesastothefuture!Whatwouldshethinknow—andthoseothers—incasehedidnotgoback?ThecommentwhichwascertaintobemadeintheSharonandotherpapersinregardtothisdisappearanceofhis,andwhichwascertaintoidentifyhimwiththissameCliffordGoldenorCarlGraham!wasitnot?

           Thenreflectingalso—thepossiblegroundlessnessofthesefears,basedonnothingmore,maybe,thanthechanceshotsofpassinghuntersonthelakeorinthesewoods.Andthenpausinganddebatingwithhimselfwhethertogoonornot.Yet,oh,thecomfortofthesetall,pillaredtrees—thesoftnessandsilenceofthesebrown,carpetingneedlesontheground—theclumpsandthicketsofunderbrushunderwhichonecouldlieandhideuntilnightshouldfallagain.Andthenon—andon.

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