An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser [141]
And although, according to the laws of her upbringing, as Clyde suspected, Roberta should have been shocked by all this, she was not, as he noticed—far from it. If one might have judged from her face, she was very much amused.
Instantly she replied with a gay smile: “Well, it all depends on how handsome he is, Mary. If he’s very attractive, I think I’d string him along for a while, anyhow, and keep the bag as long as I could.”
“Oh, but he no wait,” declared Mary archly, and with plainly a keen sense of the riskiness of the situation, the while she winked at Clyde who had drawn near. “I got to give heem bag or be sweetheart tonight, and so swell bag I never can buy myself.” She eyed the bag archly and roguishly, her own nose crinkling with the humor of the situation. “What I do then?”
“Gee, this is pretty strong stuff for a little country girl like Miss Alden. She won’t like this, maybe,” thought Clyde to himself.
However, Roberta, as he now saw, appeared to be equal to the situation, for she pretended to be troubled. “Gee, you are in a fix,” she commented. “I don’t know what you’ll do now.” She opened her eyes wide and pretended to be greatly concerned. However, as Clyde could see, she was merely acting, but carrying it off very well.
And frizzled-haired Dutch Lena now leaned over to say: “I take it and him too, you bet, if you don’t want him. Where is he? I got no feller now.” She reached over as if to take the bag from Mary, who as quickly withdrew it. And there were squeals of delight from nearly all the girls in the room, who were amused by this eccentric horseplay. Even Roberta laughed loudly, a fact which Clyde noted with pleasure, for he liked all this rough humor, considering it mere innocent play.
“Well, maybe you’re right, Lena,” he heard her add just as the whistle blew and the hundreds of sewing machines in the next room began to hum. “A good man isn’t to be found every day.” Her blue eyes were twinkling and her lips, which were most temptingly modeled, were parted in a broad smile. There was much banter and more bluff in what she said than anything else, as Clyde could see, but he felt that she was not nearly as narrow as he had feared. She was human and gay and tolerant and good-natured. There was decidedly a very liberal measure of play in her. And in spite of the fact that her clothes were poor, the same little round brown hat and blue cloth dress that she had worn on first coming to work here, she was prettier than anyone else. And she never needed to paint her lips and cheeks like the foreign girls, whose faces at times looked like pink-frosted cakes. And how pretty were her arms and neck—plump and gracefully designed! And there was a certain grace and abandon about her as she threw herself into her work as though she really enjoyed it. As she worked fast during the hottest portions of the day, there would gather on her upper lip and chin and forehead little beads of perspiration which she was always pausing in her work to touch with her handkerchief, while to him, like jewels, they seemed only to enhance her charm.
Wonderful days, these, now for Clyde. For once more and here, where he could be near her the long day through, he had a girl whom he could study and admire and by degrees proceed to crave with all of the desire of which he seemed to be capable—and with which he had craved Hortense Briggs—only with more satisfaction, since as he saw it she was simpler, more kindly and respectable. And though for quite a while at first Roberta appeared or pretended to be quite indifferent to or unconscious of him, still from the very first this was not true. She was only troubled as to the appropriate attitude for her. The beauty of his face and hands