The state of Roberta's mind for that night is not easily to be described. For here was true and poignant love, andin youth true and poignant love is difficult to withstand. Besides it was coupled with the most stirring andgrandiose illusions in regard to Clyde's local material and social condition--illusions which had little to do withanything he had done to build up, but were based rather on conjecture and gossip over which he had no control.
And her own home, as well as her personal situation was so unfortunate--no promise of any kind save in hisdirection. And here she was quarreling with him--sending him away angry. On the other hand was he notbeginning to push too ardently toward those troublesome and no doubt dreadful liberties and familiarities whichher morally trained conscience would not permit her to look upon as right? How was she to do now? What tosay
Now it was that she said to herself in the dark of her room, after having slowly and thoughtfully undressed andnoiselessly crept into the large, old-fashioned bed. "No, I won't do that. I mustn't. I can't. I will be a bad girl if Ido. I should not do that for him even though he does want me to, and should threaten to leave me forever in caseI refuse. He should be ashamed to ask me." And at the very same moment, or the next, she would be askingherself what else under the circumstances they were to do. For most certainly Clyde was at least partially correctin his contention that they had scarcely anywhere else they could go and not be recognized. How unfair was thatrule of the company. And no doubt apart from that rule, the Griffiths would think it beneath him to be troublingwith her, as would no doubt the Newtons and the Gilpins for that matter, if they should hear and know who hewas. And if this information came to their knowledge it would injure him and her. And she would not doanything that would injure him--never.
One thing that occurred to her at this point was that she should get a place somewhere else so that this problemshould be solved--a problem which at the moment seemed to have little to do with the more immediate andintimate one of desiring to enter her room. But that would mean that she would not see him any more all daylong--only at night. And then not every night by any means. And that caused her to lay aside this thought ofseeking another place.
At the same time as she now meditated the dawn would come to-morrow and there would be Clyde at thefactory. And supposing that he should not speak to her nor she to him. Impossible! Ridiculous! Terrible! Themere thought brought her to a sitting posture in bed, where distractedly a vision of Clyde looking indifferentlyand coldly upon her came to her.
On the instant she was on her feet and had turned on the one incandescent globe which dangled from the centerof the room. She went to the mirror hanging above the old walnut dresser in the corner and stared at herself.
Already she imagined she could see dark rings under her eyes. She felt numb and cold and now shook her headin a helpless and distracted way. He couldn't be that mean. He couldn't be that cruel to her now--could he? Oh, ifhe but knew how difficult--how impossible was the thing he was asking of her! Oh, if the day would only comeso that she could see his face again! Oh, if it were only another night so that she could take his hands in hers--hisarm--feel his arms about her.
Clyde, Clyde," she exclaimed half aloud, "you wouldn't do that to me, would you--you couldn't."She crossed to an old, faded and somewhat decrepit overstuffed chair which stood in the center of the roombeside a small table whereon lay some nondescript books and magazines--the Saturday Evening Post, Munsey's,the Popular Science Monthly, Bebe's Garden Seeds, and to escape most distracting and searing thoughts, satdown, her chin in her hands, her elbows planted on her knees. But the painful thoughts continuing and a sense ofchill overtaking her, she took a comforter off the bed and folded it about her, then opened the seed catalogue-onlyto throw it down.
No, no, no, he couldn't do that to me, he wouldn't." She must not let him. Why, he had told her over and overthat he was crazy about her--madly in love with her. They had been to all these wonderful places together.
And now, without any real consciousness of her movements, she was moving from the chair to the edge of thebed, sitting with elbows on knees and chin in hands; or she was before the mirror or peering restlessly out intothe dark to see if there were any trace of day. And at six, and six-thirty when the light was just breaking and itwas nearing time to dress, she was still up--in the chair, on the edge of the bed, in the corner before the mirror.
But she had reached but one definite conclusion and that was that in some way she must arrange not to haveClyde leave her. That must not be. There must be something that she could say or do that would cause him tolove her still--even if, even if--well, even if she must let him stop in here or somewhere from time to time--someother room in some other rooming house maybe, where she could arrange in some way beforehand--say that hewas her brother or something.
But the mood that dominated Clyde was of a different nature. To have understood it correctly, the full measureand obstinacy and sullen contentiousness that had suddenly generated, one would have had to return to KansasCity and the period in which he had been so futilely dancing attendance upon Hortense Briggs. Also his havingbeen compelled to give up Rita,--yet to no end. For, although the present conditions and situation were different,and he had no moral authority wherewith to charge Roberta with any such unfair treatment as Hortense hadmeted out to him, still there was this other fact that girls--all of them--were obviously stubborn and self-preservative, always setting themselves apart from and even above the average man and so wishing to compelhim to do a lot of things for them without their wishing to do anything in return. And had not Ratterer always told him that in so far as girls were concerned he was more or less of a fool--too easy--too eager to show his handand let them know that he was struck on them. Whereas, as Ratterer had explained, Clyde possessed the looks-the"goods"--and why should he always be trailing after girls unless they wanted him very much. And thisthought and compliment had impressed him very much at that time. Only because of the fiascos in connectionwith Hortense and Rita he was more earnest now. Yet here he was again in danger of repeating or bringing uponhimself what had befallen him in the case of Hortense and Rita.
At the same time he was not without the self-incriminating thought that in seeking this, most distinctly he wasdriving toward a relationship which was not legitimate and that would prove dangerous in the future. For, as henow darkly and vaguely thought, if he sought a relationship which her prejudices and her training would notpermit her to look upon as anything but evil, was he not thereby establishing in some form a claim on her part tosome consideration from him in the future which it might not be so easy for him to ignore? For after all he wasthe aggressor--not she. And because of this, and whatever might follow in connection with it, might not she be ina position to demand more from him than he might be willing to give? For was it his intention to marry her? Inthe back of his mind there lurked something which even now assured him that he would never desire to marryher--could not in the face of his high family connections here. Therefore should he proceed to demand--or shouldhe not? And if he did, could he avoid that which would preclude any claim in the future
He did not thus so distinctly voice his inmost feelings to himself, but relatively of such was their nature. Yet sogreat was the temperamental and physical enticement of Roberta that in spite of a warning nudge or mood thatseemed to hint that it was dangerous for him to persist in his demand, he kept saying to himself that unless shewould permit him to her room, he would not have anything more to do with her, the desire for her being all butoverpowering.
This contest which every primary union between the sexes, whether with or without marriage implies, wasfought out the next day in the factory. And yet without a word on either side. For Clyde, although he consideredhimself to be deeply in love with Roberta, was still not so deeply involved but that a naturally selfish andambitious and seeking disposition would in this instance stand its ground and master any impulse. And he wasdetermined to take the attitude of one who had been injured and was determined not to be friends any more oryield in any way unless some concession on her part, such as would appease him, was made.
And in consequence he came into the stamping department that morning with the face and air of one who wasvastly preoccupied with matters which had little, if anything, to do with what had occurred the night before. Yet,being far from certain that this attitude on his part was likely to lead to anything but defeat, he was inwardlydepressed and awry. For, after all, the sight of Roberta, freshly arrived, and although pale and distrait, ascharming and energetic as ever, was not calculated to assure him of any immediate or even ultimate victory. Andknowing her as well as he thought he did, by now, he was but weakly sustained by the thought that she mightyield.
He looked at her repeatedly when she was not looking. And when in turn she looked at him repeatedly, but onlyat first when he was not looking, later when she felt satisfied that his eyes, whether directly bent on her or not,must be encompassing her, still no trace of recognition could she extract. And now to her bitter disappointment,not only did he choose to ignore her, but quite for the first time since they had been so interested in each other,he professed to pay, if not exactly conspicuous at least noticeable and intentional attention to those other girls who were always so interested in him and who always, as she had been constantly imagining, were but waitingfor any slight overture on his part, to yield themselves to him in any way that he might dictate.
Now he was looking over the shoulder of Ruza Nikoforitch, her plump face with its snub nose and weak chinturned engagingly toward him, and he commenting on something not particularly connected with the work inhand apparently, for both were idly smiling. Again, in a little while, he was by the side of Martha Bordaloue, herplump French shoulders and arms bare to the pits next to his. And for all her fleshy solidity and decidedlyforeign flavor, there was still enough about her which most men would like. And with her Clyde was attemptingto jest, too.
And later it was Flora Brandt, the very sensuous and not unpleasing American girl whom Roberta had seenClyde cultivating from time to time. Yet, even so, she had never been willing to believe that he might becomeinterested in any of these. Not Clyde, surely.
And yet he could not see her at all now--could not find time to say a single word, although all these pleasantwords and gay looks for all these others. Oh, how bitter! Oh, how cruel! And how utterly she despised thoseother girls with their oglings and their open attempts to take him from her. Oh, how terrible. Surely he must bevery opposed to her now--otherwise he could not do this, and especially after all that had been between them--thelove--the kisses.
The hours dragged for both, and with as much poignance for Clyde as for Roberta. For his was a feverish, urgentdisposition where his dreams were concerned, and could ill brook the delay or disappointments that are the chiefand outstanding characteristics of the ambitions of men, whatever their nature. He was tortured hourly by thethought that he was to lose Roberta or that to win her back he would have to succumb to her wishes.
And on her part she was torn, not so much by the question as to whether she would have to yield in this matter(for by now that was almost the least of her worries), but whether, once so yielding, Clyde would be satisfiedwith just some form of guarded social contact in the room--or not. And so continue on the strength of that to befriends with her. For more than this she would not grant--never. And yet--this suspense. The misery of hisindifference. She could scarcely endure it from minute to minute, let alone from hour to hour, and finally in anagony of dissatisfaction with herself at having brought all this on herself, she retired to the rest room at aboutthree in the afternoon and there with the aid of a piece of paper found on the floor and a small bit of pencil whichshe had, she composed a brief note
Please, Clyde, don't be mad at me, will you? Please don't. Please look at me and speak to me, won't you? I'm sosorry about last night, really I am--terribly. And I must see you to-night at the end of Elm Street at 8:30 if youcan, will you? I have something to tell you. Please do come. And please do look at me and tell me you will, eventhough you are angry. You won't be sorry. I love you so. You know I do.
Your sorrowful,"ROBERTA."And in the spirit of one who is in agonized search for an opiate, she folded up the paper and returning to the room, drew close to Clyde's desk. He was before it at the time, bent over some slips. And quickly as she passedshe dropped the paper between his hands. He looked up instantly, his dark eyes still hard at the moment with themingled pain and unrest and dissatisfaction and determination that had been upon him all day, and notingRoberta's retreating figure as well as the note, he at once relaxed, a wave of puzzled satisfaction as well asdelight instantly filled him. He opened it and read. And as instantly his body was suffused with a warm and yetvery weakening ray.
And Roberta in turn, having reached her table and paused to note if by any chance any one had observed her,now looked cautiously about, a strained and nervous look in her eyes. But seeing Clyde looking directly at her,his eyes filled with a conquering and yet yielding light and a smile upon his lips, and his head nodding a happyassent, she as suddenly experienced a dizzying sensation, as though her hitherto constricted blood, detained by aconstricted heart and constricted nerves, were as suddenly set free. And all the dry marshes and cracked andparched banks of her soul--the dry rivulets and streams and lakes of misery that seemed to dot her being--were asinstantly flooded with this rich upwelling force of life and love.
He would meet her. They would meet to-night. He would put his arms around her and kiss her as before. Shewould be able to look in his eyes. They would not quarrel any more--oh, never if she could help it.