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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Стр. 555/598
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Clyde
,
now
as
always
overawed
and
thrown
back
on
himself
by
that
uncompromising
and
shameless
honesty
which
he
had
never
been
able
quite
to
comprehend
in
her
,
announced
,
with
all
the
firmness
that
he
could
muster
--
yet
with
a
secret
quavering
chill
in
his
heart
--
that
he
had
sworn
to
the
truth
.
He
had
not
done
those
things
with
which
he
had
been
charged
.
He
had
not
.
But
,
alas
,
as
she
now
said
to
herself
,
on
observing
him
,
what
was
that
about
his
eyes
--
a
faint
flicker
perhaps
.
He
was
not
so
sure
--
as
self-convinced
and
definite
as
she
had
hoped
--
as
she
had
prayed
he
would
be
.
No
,
no
,
there
was
something
in
his
manner
,
his
words
,
as
he
spoke
--
a
faint
recessive
intonation
,
a
sense
of
something
troubled
,
dubious
,
perhaps
,
which
quite
froze
her
now
.
He
was
not
positive
enough
.
And
so
he
might
have
plotted
,
in
part
at
least
,
as
she
had
feared
at
first
,
when
she
had
first
heard
of
this
--
might
have
even
struck
her
on
that
lone
,
secret
lake
!
--
who
could
tell
?
(
the
searing
,
destroying
power
of
such
a
thought
as
that
)
.
And
that
in
the
face
of
all
his
testimony
to
the
contrary
.
But
"
Jehovah
,
jirah
,
Thou
wilt
not
require
of
a
mother
,
in
her
own
and
her
son
's
darkest
hour
,
that
she
doubt
him
--
make
sure
his
death
through
her
own
lack
of
faith
?
Oh
,
no
--
Thou
wilt
not
.
O
Lamb
of
God
,
Thou
wilt
not
!
"
She
turned
;
she
bruised
under
her
heel
the
scaly
head
of
this
dark
suspicion
--
as
terrifying
to
her
as
his
guilt
was
to
him
.
"
O
Absalom
,
my
Absalom
!
"
Come
,
come
,
we
will
not
entertain
such
a
thought
.
God
himself
would
not
urge
it
upon
a
mother
.
Was
he
not
here
--
her
son
--
before
her
,
declaring
firmly
that
he
had
not
done
this
thing
.
She
must
believe
--
she
would
believe
him
utterly
.
She
would
--
and
did
--
whatever
fiend
of
doubt
might
still
remain
locked
in
the
lowest
dungeon
of
her
miserable
heart
.
Come
,
come
,
the
public
should
know
how
she
felt
.
She
and
her
son
would
find
a
way
.
He
must
believe
and
pray
.
Did
he
have
a
Bible
?
Did
he
read
it
?
And
Clyde
having
been
long
since
provided
with
a
Bible
by
a
prison
worker
,
assured
her
that
he
had
and
did
read
it
.
But
now
she
must
go
first
to
see
his
lawyers
,
next
to
file
her
dispatch
,
after
which
she
would
return
.
But
once
out
on
the
street
being
immediately
set
upon
by
several
reporters
and
eagerly
questioned
as
to
the
meaning
of
her
presence
here
.
Did
she
believe
in
her
son
's
innocence
?
Did
she
or
did
she
not
think
that
he
had
had
a
fair
trial
?
Why
had
she
not
come
on
before
?
And
Mrs.
Griffiths
,
in
her
direct
and
earnest
and
motherly
way
,
taking
them
into
her
confidence
and
telling
how
as
well
as
why
she
came
to
be
here
,
also
why
she
had
not
come
before
.
But
now
that
she
was
here
she
hoped
to
stay
.
The
Lord
would
provide
the
means
for
the
salvation
of
her
son
,
of
whose
innocence
she
was
convinced
.
Would
they
not
ask
God
to
help
her
?
Would
they
not
pray
for
her
success
?
And
with
the
several
reporters
not
a
little
moved
and
impressed
,
assuring
her
that
they
would
,
of
course
,
and
thereafter
describing
her
to
the
world
at
large
as
she
was
--
middle-aged
,
homely
,
religious
,
determined
,
sincere
and
earnest
and
with
a
moving
faith
in
the
innocence
of
her
boy
.
But
the
Griffiths
of
Lycurgus
,
on
hearing
this
,
resenting
her
coming
as
one
more
blow
.
And
Clyde
,
in
his
cell
,
on
reading
of
it
later
,
somewhat
shocked
by
the
gross
publicity
now
attending
everything
in
connection
with
him
,
yet
,
because
of
his
mother
's
presence
,
resigned
and
after
a
time
almost
happy
.
Whatever
her
faults
or
defects
,
after
all
she
was
his
mother
,
was
n't
she
?
And
she
had
come
to
his
aid
.
Let
the
public
think
what
it
would
.
Was
he
not
in
the
shadow
of
death
and
she
at
least
had
not
deserted
him
.
And
with
this
,
her
suddenly
manifested
skill
in
connecting
herself
in
this
way
with
a
Denver
paper
,
to
praise
her
for
.
She
had
never
done
anything
like
this
before
.
And
who
knew
but
that
possibly
,
and
even
in
the
face
of
her
dire
poverty
now
,
she
might
still
be
able
to
solve
this
matter
of
a
new
trial
for
him
and
to
save
his
life
?
Who
knew
?
And
yet
how
much
and
how
indifferently
he
had
sinned
against
her
!
Oh
,
how
much
.
And
still
here
she
was
--
his
mother
still
anxious
and
tortured
and
yet
loving
and
seeking
to
save
his
life
by
writing
up
his
own
conviction
for
a
western
paper
.
No
longer
did
the
shabby
coat
and
the
outlandish
hat
and
the
broad
,
immobile
face
and
somewhat
stolid
and
crude
gestures
seem
the
racking
and
disturbing
things
they
had
so
little
time
since
.
She
was
his
mother
and
she
loved
him
,
and
believed
in
him
and
was
struggling
to
save
him
.
