Американская трагедия

Chapter 47

           Andallthisknowledgeandtheirpresencetherenowmightmakethistripofhisuseless.Suchsillyplotting!Suchpointlessplanningasthiswhenatleasthemighthavetakenmoretimechosenalakestillfartherawayandshouldhaveonlysotorturedhadhebeenfortheselastmanydays,thathecouldscarcelythinkhowtothink.Well,allhecoulddonowwastogoandsee.IfthereweremanyhemustthinkofsomewaytorowtosomereallonelyspotormaybeturnandreturntoGrassLakeorwhere?Oh,whatcouldorwouldhedoifthereweremanyoverhere?

           Butjustthenalongaisleofgreentreesgivingoutatthefarendashenowrecalleduponasquareoflawn,andthelakeitself,thelittleinnwithitspillaredverandah,facingthedarkbluewatersofBigBittern.Andthatlow,smallred-roofedboathousetotherightonthewaterthathehadseenbeforewhenhewashere.AndRobertaexclaimingonsight,"Oh,itispretty,isn’titjustbeautiful."AndClydesurveyingthatdark,lowislandinthedistance,tothesouth,andseeingbutfewpeopleaboutnoneonthelakeitselfexclaimingnervously,"Yes,itis,youbet."Butfeelinghalfchokedashesaidit.

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