sister carrie

Chapter 15 (2)

Chapter 8 Winter's Apocalypse: A Messenger Called (2)
Suddenly, a pair of eyes met Carrie's and recognized her.It's from a bunch of well-dressed girls.Their clothes were faded and baggy, their overcoats were worn out, and they looked stuffy.

Carrie knew the look, and she knew the girl.She was one of those who worked by the locomotives in the shoe factory.She glanced at it, still not quite recognizing it, and then looked back at her.It seemed to Carrie only that there was a mighty tide between them.Old clothes and old machines appeared before my eyes again.She was indeed taken aback.Drouet did not notice it until Carrie bumped into a passer-by.

"You must be thinking about something," he said.

They dined, and then went to the theater, which pleased Carrie very much.What she saw was colorful and elegant.Status, power, distant lands, great people, she imagined them all.After the play ended, the clatter of carriages and groups of noble ladies made her almost stunned.

"Wait a moment," said Drouet.He grabbed her in the gorgeous aisle of the theater.At this moment, ladies and gentlemen are pouring out, their skirts are creaking, women in hats and ribbons are nodding slightly, their lips are slightly parted, showing their white teeth. "Let's take a look."

"Car No. 67," the waiter calling the carriage for the guests called, with a melodious voice, "Car No. 67."

"Isn't it nice?" asked Carrie.

"Great," Drouet said.He was also infatuated with this luxurious scene, just like her.He massaged her arm tenderly.Once, she looked up.His perfectly straight teeth gleamed between smiling lips, and her eyes sparkled."How lovely you look!" he whispered to her as they stepped forward. They had just reached the cab-boy, who was opening the door of the cab and letting the ladies into it.

"You follow me, we want a cab," said Drouet, smiling.

Carrie hardly heard, her head was already so full of images of life.

They got off in front of a restaurant for a late-night snack.Carrie thought for a moment that it was getting late, but that there were no house rules binding her now.If any habit in the past had held her back, this moment would have worked.Habits are a strange thing.It can drive irrational people out of bed to pray simply because it is a custom and not a piety.If once he neglects to do something he is accustomed to do, the victim of habit will feel the needle pricking in the brain, the uneasiness of going outside the routine, as if pricking his conscience, as if a small voice cried out, Urge him to get back on the right track.If this is too deviant, then the habit will weigh heavily on his heart, making the victim who has lost his reason come back and do a good job of what he did perfunctorily at the beginning. "Oh, by God," says such a man, "I have done my duty at last." When in fact it is only a repetition of an old and unbreakable trick.

Carrie had no great house rules to restrain her.If there is, there must be a deep awareness of distress.Now, after supper, I feel warm all over.Under the influence of all kinds of things she saw and heard, the beautiful, invisible enthusiasm, the rich food, and the unusual luxurious atmosphere emanating from Drouet made her spirit relax, and all kinds of words could be said. I can hear it.Once again she fell victim to the hypnotic influences of the big city.

"Well," said Drouet at last, "we'd better go."

While they were eating, they were killing time, their eyes looked at me from time to time, and I looked at you.Carrie could not help feeling the throbbing power of his gaze.He had a habit of touching her hand when he spoke, as if to impress her on a matter.Now he said go, while touching her hand.

They got up and walked out into the street, the downtown area was empty.There are only a few pedestrians whistling, a few cars driving at night, and a few amusement parks, and the windows are still very bright.They strolled on Basho Avenue AD.Drouet was still pouring out his endless tidbits.He took Carrie's arm, holding it tightly as he spoke, and after a few witty remarks, he bent down so that his eyes would meet hers.At last they reached the steps, and Carrie stood on the top step, her head as high as his.He held her hand tenderly.He looked at her intently, and she looked around, warm and thoughtful.

It was about this hour that Minnie was in a deep sleep, having been troubled for many hours in the evening before that.She slept in an awkward position, with her arms tucked under her body.In this way, the muscle compresses the nerve.At this moment, a hazy scene emerged in her sleepy heart.Seemed to see her and Carrie over there in an old coal mine.She could see the high chute, and the piles of dirt and coal that had been pulled out.There was a deep shaft, and they were looking into it.They could see the strange wet stones below, very far below, where the walls of the well were no longer visible but dim shadows.The old crates for going down the well were still hanging there, and there was an old rope tied there.

"Let's go in," said Carrie.

"Oh, no," said Minnie.

"Well, come on," said Carrie.

She began to hold on to the basket, and in spite of Minnie's objections, pulled it over and down the well.

"Carrie," she called, "Carrie, come back." But Carrie had gone down, and then even her shadow was swallowed out of sight.

She shook her arms.

After a while, the mysterious sight disappeared strangely.Now it was a place by the river that she had never seen before.They were on a plank, or a ground, or something sticking out toward the water.Carrie stood at the other end, and they looked about, but the thing was sinking, and Minnie heard the gurgling of the water coming up.

"Come here, Carrie," she called, but Carrie went the other way anyway.She seemed to be disappearing, and now it was difficult to call her.

"Carrie," she called, "Carrie," but her own voice sounded in the distance.And the weird water blurred everything.She walked away, feeling extremely painful in her heart, as if she had lost something.Never in her life had she been in such unspeakable pain.

This is how the various activities of the tired brain are displayed, and such strange phantoms slip in one by one, making all kinds of strange scenes hazy.The last scene made her cry because Carrie was disappearing over a rock, and her fingers were loosening from the rock, and she saw that she was falling.

"Minnie, what's the matter? Hey, wake up," Hanson said, shaking her shoulders with a disturbed heart.

"What-how-what's the matter?" said Minnie, half asleep.

"Wake up," he said, "turn around, you are talking in your sleep."

For a week or so Drouet wandered into the Fitzgerald-Moai Hotel, dressed and behaved in a very smart manner.

"Hello, Charlie," said Hurstwood, looking out of the office.

"When will you go out and do business again?" he asked.

"Soon," said Drouet.

"Why didn't I see you this time," said Hurstwood.

"Yes, been busy," said Drouet.

They talked for a few minutes on general topics.

"Listen," said Drouet, a thought suddenly occurred to him, "I will ask you to come out some evening."

"To where?" asked Hurstwood.

"Come out to my house, of course," said Drouet, smiling.

Hurstwood raised his head in doubt, with a smile on his lips, studied Drouet's face, and said in a gentleman's tone: "Of course, I'm glad to come."

"We can play three-person poker."

"I'll take a small bottle of good white wine, will I?" asked Hurstwood.

"Of course," said Drouet, "I want to introduce you."

(End of this chapter)