An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser [151]
“Oh, that’s all right,” he said, pretending a courage and a daring in regard to her which he did not feel even now. “I’ll just send them down to the wash room and then we’ll see if we can’t restamp them. It’s not our mistake, really.”
He smiled most warmly and she met his look with a repressed smile of her own, already turning and fearing that she had manifested too clearly what had brought her.
“But don’t go,” he added quickly. “I want to ask you something. I’ve been trying to get a word with you ever since Sunday. I want you to meet me somewhere, will you? There’s a rule here that says a head of a department can’t have anything to do with a girl who works for him—outside I mean. But I want you to see me just the same, won’t you? You know,” and he smiled winsomely and coaxingly into her eyes, “I’ve been just nearly crazy over you ever since you came in here and Sunday made it worse. And now I’m not going to let any old rule come between me and you, if I can help it. Will you?”
“Oh, I don’t know whether I can do that or not,” replied Roberta, who, now that she had succeeded in accomplishing what she had wished, was becoming terrorized by her own daring. She began looking around nervously and feeling that every eye in the room must be upon her. “I live with Mr. and Mrs. Newton, my friend’s sister and brother-in-law, you know, and they’re very strict. It isn’t the same as if—” She was going to add “I was home,” but Clyde interrupted her.
“Oh, now please don’t say no, will you? Please don’t. I want to see you. I don’t want to cause you any trouble, that’s all. Otherwise I’d be glad to come round to your house. You know how it is.”
“Oh, no, you mustn’t do that,” cautioned Roberta. “Not yet anyhow.” She was so confused that quite unconsciously she was giving Clyde to understand that she was expecting him to come around some time later.
“Well,” smiled Clyde, who could see that she was yielding in part. “We could just walk out near the end of some street here—that street you live in, if you wish. There are no houses out there. Or there’s a little park—Mohawk—just west of Dreamland on the Mohawk Street line. It’s right on the river. You might come out there. I could meet you where the car stops. Will you do that?”
“Oh, I’d be afraid to do that I think—go so far, I mean. I never did anything like that before.” She looked so innocent and frank as she said this that Clyde was quite carried away by the sweetness of her. And to think he was making a clandestine appointment with her. “I’m almost afraid to go anywhere here alone, you know. People talk so here, they say, and some one would be sure to see me. But—”
“Yes, but what?”
“I’m afraid I’m staying too long at your desk here, don’t you think?” She actually gasped as she said it. And Clyde realizing the openness of it, although there was really nothing very unusual about it, now spoke quickly and forcefully.
“Well, then, how about the end of that street you live in? Couldn’t you come down there for just a little while tonight—a half hour or so, maybe?”
“Oh, I couldn’t make it tonight, I think—not so soon. I’ll have to see first, you know. Arrange, that is. But another day.” She was so excited and troubled by this great adventure of hers that her face, like Clyde’s at times, changed from a half smile to a half frown without her realizing that it was registering these changes.
“Well, then, how about Wednesday night at eight-thirty or nine? Couldn’t you do that? Please, now.”
Roberta considered most sweetly, nervously. Clyde was enormously fascinated by her manner at the moment, for she looked around, conscious, or so she seemed, that she was being observed and that her stay here for a first visit was very long.
“I suppose I’d better be going back to my work now,” she replied without really answering him.
“Wait a minute,” pled Clyde. “We haven’t fixed on the time for Wednesday. Aren’t you going to meet me? Make it nine or eight-thirty, or any time you want to. I