She hadn’t taken up with anybody yet and I hadn’t either.
And then there was that rule that kept me from taking her about anywhere, and once we were together, of course we just went on without thinking very much about it, I suppose — either of us.”
“You just drifted because nothing had happened as yet and you didn’t suppose anything would.
Is that the way?”
“No, sir.
I mean, yes, sir.
That’s the way it was.”
Clyde was very eager to get those much-rehearsed and very important answers, just right.
“But you must have thought of something — one or both of you.
You were twenty-one and she was twenty-three.”
“Yes, sir.
I suppose we did — I suppose I did think of something now and then.”
“And what was it that you thought?
Can you recollect?”
“Well, yes, sir. I suppose I can.
That is, I know that I did think at times that if things went all right and I made a little more money and she got a place somewhere else, that I would begin taking her out openly, and then afterwards maybe, if she and I kept on caring for each other as we did then, marry her, maybe.”
“You actually thought of marrying her then, did you?”
“Yes, sir.
I know I did in the way that I’ve said, of course.”
“But that was before you met this Miss X?”
“Yes, sir, that was before that.”
(“Beautifully done!” observed Mason, sarcastically, under his breath to State Senator Redmond.
“Excellent stage play,” replied Redmond in a stage whisper.)
“But did you ever tell her in so many words?” continued Jephson.
“Well, no, sir.
I don’t recall that I did — not just in so many words.”
“You either told her or you didn’t tell her.
Now, which was it?”
“Well, neither, quite.
I used to tell her that I loved her and that I never wanted her to leave me and that I hoped she never would.”
“But not that you wanted to marry her?”
“No, sir. Not that I wanted to marry her.”
“Well, well, all right! — and she — what did she say?”
“That she never would leave me,” replied Clyde, heavily and fearsomely, thinking, as he did so, of Roberta’s last cries and her eyes bent on him.
And he took from his pocket a handkerchief and began to wipe his moist, cold face and hands.
(“Well staged!” murmured Mason, softly and cynically.
“Pretty shrewd — pretty shrewd!” commented Redmond, lightly.)
“But, tell me,” went on Jephson, softly and coldly, “feeling as you did about Miss Alden, how was it that upon meeting this Miss X, you could change so quickly?
Are you so fickle that you don’t know your own mind from day to day?”
“Well, I didn’t think so up to that time — no, sir!”
“Had you ever had a strong and binding love affair at any time in your life before you met Miss Alden?”
“No, sir.”
“But did you consider this one with Miss Alden strong and binding — a true love affair — up to the time you met this Miss X?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“And afterwards — then what?”
“Well — afterwards — it wasn’t quite like that any more.”
“You mean to say that on sight of Miss X, after encountering her once or twice, you ceased to care for Miss Alden entirely?”
“Well, no, sir.
It wasn’t quite like that,” volunteered Clyde, swiftly and earnestly.
“I did continue to care for her some — quite a lot, really.