Американська трагедія

Chapter 7

           Squiresone—nomore,Hegglundhadsaid—andtherest,fivedollarsandahalf,foroneevening’sinteresting—yes,delightfulandfascinating—work,belongedtohimself.Hecouldscarcelybelieveit.Itseemedfantastic,Aladdinish,really.Nevertheless,attwelve,exactly,ofthatfirstdayagonghadsoundedsomewhere—ashuffleoffeethadbeenheardandthreeboyshadappeared—onetotakeBarnes’placeatthedesk,theothertwotoanswercalls.AndatthecommandofBarnes,theeightwhowerepresentwereorderedtorise,rightdressandmarchaway.Andinthehalloutside,andjustashewasleaving,ClydeapproachedMr.Squiresandhandedhimadollarinsilver."That’sright,"Mr.Squiresremarked.Nomore.Then,Clyde,alongwiththeothers,descendedtohislocker,changedhisclothesandwalkedoutintothedarkenedstreets,asenseofluckandasenseofresponsibilityastofuturelucksothrillinghimastomakehimrathertremulous—giddy,even.

           Tothinkthatnow,atlast,heactuallyhadsuchaplace.Tothinkthathecouldearnthismucheveryday,maybe.Hebegantowalktowardhishome,hisfirstthoughtbeingthathemustsleepwellandsobefitforhisdutiesinthemorning.Butthinkingthathewouldnotneedtoreturntothehotelbefore11:30thenextday,hewanderedintoanall-nightbeanerytohaveacupofcoffeeandsomepie.Andnowallhewasthinkingwasthathewouldonlyneedtoworkfromnoonuntilsix,whenheshouldbefreeuntilthefollowingmorningatsix

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