An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser (i can read book club .TXT) 📕

hold of that branch there and steady yourself by that.” He held the boat very still as she stepped. Then, as the canoe careened slightly to one side, she dropped to the cushioned seat with a little cry. It was like that of a baby to Clyde.

“It’s all right,” he reassured her. “Just sit in the center there. It won’t tip over. Gee, but this is funny. I can’t make it out quite. You know just as I was coming around that point I was thinking of you⁠—how maybe you might like to come out to a place like this sometime. And now here you are and here I am, and it all happened just like that.” He waved his hand and snapped his fingers.

And Roberta, fascinated by this confession and yet a little frightened by it, added: “Is that so?” She was thinking of her own thoughts in regard to him.

“Yes, and what’s more,” added Clyde, “I’ve been thinking of you all day, really. That’s the truth. I was wishing I might see you somewhere this morning and bring you out here.”

“Oh, now, Mr. Griffiths. You know you don’t mean that,” pleaded Roberta, fearful lest this sudden contact should take too intimate and sentimental a turn too quickly. She scarcely liked that because she was afraid of him and herself, and now she looked at him, trying to appear a little cold or at least disinterested, but it was a very weak effort.

“That’s the truth, though, just the same,” insisted Clyde.

“Well, I think it is beautiful myself,” admitted Roberta. “I’ve been out here, too, several times now. My friend and I.” Clyde was once more delighted. She was smiling now and full of wonder.

“Oh, have you?” he exclaimed, and there was more talk as to why he liked to come out and how he had learned to swim here. “And to think I turned in here and there you were on the bank, looking at those water lilies. Wasn’t that queer? I almost fell out of the boat. I don’t think I ever saw you look as pretty as you did just now standing there.”

“Oh, now, Mr. Griffiths,” again pleaded Roberta cautiously. “You mustn’t begin that way. I’ll be afraid you’re a dreadful flatterer. I’ll have to think you are if you say anything like that so quickly.”

Clyde once more gazed at her weakly, and she smiled because she thought he was more handsome than ever. But what would he think, she added to herself, if she were to tell him that just before he came around that point she was thinking of him too, and wishing that he were there with her, and not Grace. And how they might sit and talk, and hold hands perhaps. He might even put his arms around her waist, and she might let him. That would be terrible, as some people here would see it, she knew. And it would never do for him to know that⁠—never. That would be too intimate⁠—too bold. But just the same it was so. Yet what would these people here in Lycurgus think of her and him now if they should see her, letting him paddle her about in this canoe! He a factory manager and she an employee in his department. The conclusion! The scandal, maybe, even. And yet Grace Marr was along⁠—or soon would be. And she could explain to her⁠—surely. He was out rowing and knew her, and why shouldn’t he help her get some lilies if he wanted to? It was almost unavoidable⁠—this present situation, wasn’t it?

Already Clyde had maneuvered the canoe around so that they were now among the water lilies. And as he talked, having laid his paddle aside, he had been reaching over and pulling them up, tossing them with their long, wet stems at her feet as she lay reclining in the seat, one hand over the side of the canoe in the water, as she had seen other girls holding theirs. And for the moment her thoughts were allayed and modified by the beauty of his head and arms and the tousled hair that now fell over his eyes. How handsome he was!

XVI

The outcome of that afternoon was so wonderful for both that for days thereafter neither could cease thinking about it or marveling that anything so romantic and charming should have brought them together so intimately when both were considering that it was not wise for either to know the other any better than employee and superior.

After a few moments of badinage in the boat in which he had talked about the beauty of the lilies and how glad he was to get them for her, they picked up her friend, Grace, and eventually returned to the boathouse.

Once on the land again there developed not a little hesitation on her part as well as his as to how farther to proceed, for they were confronted by the problem of returning into Lycurgus together. As Roberta saw it, it would not look right and might create talk. And on his part, he was thinking of Gilbert and other people he knew. The trouble that might come of it. What Gilbert would say if he did hear. And so both he and she, as well as Grace, were dubious on the instant about the wisdom of riding back together. Grace’s own reputation, as well as the fact that she knew Clyde was not interested in her, piqued her. And Roberta, realizing this from her manner, said: “What do you think we had better do, excuse ourselves?”

At once Roberta tried to think just how they could extricate themselves gracefully without offending Clyde. Personally she was so enchanted that had she been alone she would have preferred to have ridden back with him. But with Grace here and in this cautious mood, never. She must think up some excuse.

And at the same time, Clyde was wondering just how he was to do now⁠—ride in with them and brazenly