An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser [341]
“Of course, you know that those letters which Miss Alden wrote you are very strong?” began Jephson, after hearing Clyde restate his story.
“Yes, sir.”
“They’re very sad to any one who doesn’t know all of the facts, and on that account they are likely to prejudice any jury against you, especially when they’re put alongside Miss Finchley’s letters.”
“Yes, I suppose they might,” replied Clyde, “but then, she wasn’t always like that, either. It was only after she got in trouble and I wanted her to let me go that she wrote like that.”
“I know. I know. And that’s a point we want to think about and maybe bring out, if we can. If only there were some way to keep those letters out,” he now turned to Belknap to say. Then, to Clyde, “but what I want to ask you now is this—you were close to her for something like a year, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“In all of that time that you were with her, or before, was she ever friendly, or maybe intimate, with any other young man anywhere—that is, that you know of?”
As Clyde could see, Jephson was not afraid, or perhaps not sufficiently sensitive, to refrain from presenting any thought or trick that seemed to him likely to provide a loophole for escape. But, far from being cheered by this suggestion, he was really shocked. What a shameful thing in connection with Roberta and her character it would be to attempt to introduce any such lie as this. He could not and would not hint at any such falsehood, and so he replied:
“No, sir. I never heard of her going with any one else. In fact, I know she didn’t.”
“Very good! That settles that,” snapped Jephson. “I judged from her letters that what you say is true. At the same time, we must know all the facts. It might make a very great difference if there were some one else.”
And at this point Clyde could not quite make sure whether he was attempting to impress upon him the value of this as an idea or not, but just the same he decided it was not right even to consider it. And yet he was thinking: If only this man could think of a real defense for me! He looks so shrewd.
“Well, then,” went on Jephson, in the same hard, searching tone, devoid, as Clyde saw it, of sentiment or pity of any kind, “here’s something else I want to ask you. In all the time that you knew her, either before you were intimate with her or afterwards, did she ever write you a mean or sarcastic or demanding or threatening letter of any kind?”
“No, sir, I can’t say that she ever did,” replied Clyde, “in fact, I know she didn’t. No, sir. Except for those few last ones, maybe—the very last one.”
“And you never wrote her any, I suppose?”
“No, sir, I never wrote her any letters.”
“Why?”
“Well, she was right there in the factory with me, you see. Besides at the last there, after she went home, I was afraid to.”
“I see.”
At the same time, as Clyde now proceeded to point out, and that quite honestly, Roberta could be far from sweet-tempered at times— could in fact be quite determined and even stubborn. And she had paid no least attention to his plea that her forcing him to marry her now would ruin him socially as well as in every other way, and that even in the face of his willingness to work along and pay for her support