An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser [232]
Yet when he called the same evening after visiting Short, his manner redolent of a fairly worthwhile achievement, she merely said, after listening to his explanation in as receptive a manner as she could: “Do you know just where this is, Clyde? Can we get there on the car without much trouble, or will we have to walk a long way?” And after he had explained that it was but a little way out of Gloversville, in the suburbs really, an interurban stop being but a quarter of a mile from the house, she had added: “Is he home at night, or will we have to go in the daytime? It would be so much better if we could go at night. There’d be so much less danger of any one seeing us.” And being assured that he was, as Clyde had learned from Short, she went on: “But do you know is he old or young? I’d feel so much easier and safer if he were old. I don’t like young doctors. We’ve always had an old doctor up home and I feel so much easier talking to some one like him.”
Clyde did not know. He had not thought to inquire, but to reassure her he ventured that he was middle-aged—which chanced to be the fact.
The following evening the two of them departed, but separately as usual, for Fonda, where it was necessary to change cars. And once within the approximate precincts of the physician’s residence, they stepped down and made their way along a road, which in this mid-state winter weather was still covered with old and dry-packed snow. It offered a comparatively smooth floor for their quick steps. For in these days, there was no longer that lingering intimacy which formerly would have characterized both. In those other and so recent days, as Roberta was constantly thinking, he would have been only too glad in such a place as this, if not on such an occasion, to drag his steps, put an arm about her waist, and talk about nothing at all—the night, the work at the factory, Mr. Liggett, his uncle, the current movies, some place they were planning to go, something they would love to do together if they could. But now … And on this particular occasion, when most of all, and if ever, she needed the full strength of his devotion and support! Yet now, as she could see, he was most nervously concerned as to whether, going alone in this way, she was going to get scared and “back out”; whether she was going to think to say the right thing at the right time and convince the doctor that he must do something for her, and for a nominal fee.
“Well, Bert, how about you? All right? You’re not going to get cold feet now, are you? Gee, I hope not because this is going to be a good chance to get this thing done and over with. And it isn’t like you were going to some one who hadn’t done anything like this before, you know, because this fellow has. I got that straight. All you have to do now, is to say, well, you know, that you’re in trouble, see, and that you don’t know how you’re going to get out of it unless he’ll help you in some way, because you haven’t any friends here you can go to. And besides, as things are, you couldn’t go to ‘em if you wanted to. They’d tell on you, see. Then if he asks where I am or who I am, you just say that I was a fellow here—but that I’ve gone—give any name you want to, but that I’ve gone, and you don’t know where I’ve gone to—run away, see. Then you’d better say, too, that you wouldn’t have come to him only that you heard of another case in which he helped some one else—that a girl told you, see. Only you don’t want to let on that you’re paid much, I mean,—because