An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser [411]
And then having testified to so much—and no more appearing to occur either to Jephson or himself—the former after a pause now turned and said, most distinctly and yet somehow quietly:
“Now, Clyde, you have taken a solemn oath before this jury, this judge, all these people here, and above all your God, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You realize what that means, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“You swear before God that you did not strike Roberta Alden in that boat?”
“I swear. I did not.”
“Or throw her into the lake?”
“I swear it. I did not.”
“Or willfully or willingly in any way attempt to upset that boat or in any other fashion bring about the death that she suffered?”
“I swear it!” cried Clyde, emphatically and emotionally.
“You swear that it was an accident—unpremeditated and undesigned by you?”
“I do,” lied Clyde, who felt that in fighting for his life he was telling a part of the truth, for that accident was unpremeditated and undesigned. It had not been as he had planned and he could swear to that.
And then Jephson, running one of his large strong hands over his face and looking blandly and nonchalantly around upon the court and jury, the while he compressed his thin lips into a long and meaningful line, announced: “The prosecution may take the witness.”
Chapter 25
The mood of Mason throughout the entire direct examination was that of a restless harrier anxious to be off at the heels of its prey— of a foxhound within the last leap of its kill. A keen and surging desire to shatter this testimony, to show it to be from start to finish the tissue of lies that in part at least it was, now animated him. And no sooner had Jephson concluded than he leaped up and confronted Clyde, who, seeing him blazing with this desire to undo him, felt as though he was about to be physically attacked.
“Griffiths, you had that camera in your hand at the time she came toward you in the boat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She stumbled and fell and you accidentally struck her with it?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t suppose in your truthful and honest way you remember telling me there in the woods on the shore of Big Bittern that you never had a camera?”
“Yes, sir—I remember that.”
“And that was a lie, of course?