Американская трагедия

Chapter 8

           Butwhat—what—Idon’tunderstand"—hisvoicebegantotrembleslightlyashesaidthis—"is—iswhyyouwanttoarrestme?"

           "Youdon’t,eh?Youweren’tupateitherBigBitternorGrassLakebyanychanceonlastWednesdayorThursday,eh?"

           "Why,no,sir,Iwasn’t,"repliedClyde,falsely.

           "Andyoudon’thappentoknowanythingaboutthedrowningofagirluptherethatyouweresupposedtobewith—RobertaAlden,ofBiltz,NewYork,Ibelieve."

           "Why,myGod,no!"repliedClyde,nervouslyandstaccatically,thetruenameofRobertaandheraddressbeingusedbythistotalstranger,andsosoon,staggeringhim.Thentheyknew!Theyhadobtainedaclue.Histruenameandhers!God!"AmIsupposedtohavecommittedamurder?"headded,hisvoicefaint—amerewhisper.

           "Thenyoudon’tknowthatshewasdrownedlastThursday?Andyouweren’twithheratthattime?"Mr.Krautfixedahard,inquisitive,unbelievingeyeonhim.

           "Why,no,ofcourse,Iwasn’t,"repliedClyde,recallingnowbutonething—thathemustdenyall—untilheshouldthinkorknowwhatelsetodoorsay.

           "Andyoudidn’tmeetthreemenwalkingsouthlastThursdaynightfromBigBitterntoThreeMileBayatabouteleveno’clock?"

           "Why,no,sir.OfcourseIdidn’t.Iwasn’tupthere,Itoldyou."

           "Verywell,Mr.Griffiths,Ihaven’tanythingmoretosay.

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