sister carrie

Chapter 27 (2)

Chapter 15 The old love is boring: the charm of youth (2)
Sometimes, on the road, she saw men at work—Irishmen with picks, coalmen shoveling away piles of coal, Americans busy with manual labor— These aroused her fantasies.Hard work, now that she no longer had to do it, seemed to be harder than it had been when she was doing it.She saw through a fog of fantasy—through that poetic bleak twilight her old father, in the flour-stained costume of the miller, came back sometimes to her memory come.It was the faces outside the window that touched her memory.A shoemaker, having nailed the last nail of the day, can see through a small window in the basement a blast furnace worker next to a smelting furnace; Workers with their sleeves up at work.These visions drew her back to her fantasies of scenes from the mill days.She mourned it, though rarely said it.Her sympathy was always that of the toiling underworld from which she had just sprung and which she knew best.

Although Hurstwood did not know these things, he was in contact with people whose feelings were so tender and beautiful.He didn't know this level, but after all, it was this aspect of her that attracted him.It never occurred to him to analyze his affections.It was enough that there was love in her eyes, tenderness in her manner, kindness and hope in her thoughts.He drew close to this lily, whose soft beauty and fragrance he had drawn from the depths of the water, into which he had never swam.It had sucked it from the rich soil of the water bottom, which he could not comprehend.He is close to it only because it is soft and fresh.It lightens his affections.It makes the morning meaningful.

In terms of material life, she has greatly improved.Her embarrassment was over, and if any remained, it was only a trace of amusingness, as agreeable as perfect grace.Her dainty high-heeled shoes fit her perfectly.She was most adept at such trifles as lace and chokers, which greatly increased her femininity.Her figure is well developed, and she is already plump and moving.

Hurstwood wrote her one morning asking her to meet him at Jefferson Park, Monroe Street.He did not think it proper to visit her again, even with Drouet at home.

At one o'clock the next afternoon he reached the pretty little park, and found a crude bench in the shade of a lilac bush beside the path.In this season of the year, the bustling scenery of spring has not completely disappeared.On the edge of a small pond nearby, several well-dressed children were launching white canvas boats.In the shadow of the tower, a policeman with the buttons of his uniform gleaming, arms folded, baton under belt, was resting.On the lawn was an elderly gardener, with a pair of pruning shears in his hand, tending a few bushes.Overhead in the clear early summer sky, in a shimmering green shade, busy sparrows were jumping and chirping.

Hurstwood walked out of the house that morning, chagrined as usual.When I arrived at the shop, I had nothing to do and didn't need to write anything.When he came here, he felt relieved and put aside his boredom.Now, in the shade of the greenery, he looked about him with the usual lover's fancy.He heard cars passing by on the nearby street, but the sound was far away, and it only reached his ears in a low voice.The noise of the city was only vaguely heard, and the occasional bell sounded like music.He dreamed new dreams of pleasure.This has nothing to do with the fact that he has a permanent position at the moment.In his fantasies he recalled Hurstwood, who was neither married nor fixed in a firm position.He recalled how he had served the girls—how he had danced, escorted them home, lingered at their door.How he wished he could go back to his old life--and at this moment, the scenery was so pleasant, he felt as if he were a completely free person.

At two o'clock Carrie came lightly down the path toward him, her face as fresh and fresh as a rose.She had recently worn a sailor's hat, in keeping with the season, with a pretty white-dotted blue ribbon.The skirt is bright blue, matched with a short blouse, with thin blue stripes on a white background-as thin as hair.A pair of brown leather shoes occasionally peeked out from under the skirt.Gloves in hand.

Hurstwood looked up at her happily.

"There you are, dearest," he said eagerly, rising to his feet and taking her hand.

"Of course," she said, smiling, "do you think I won't come?"

"I don't know," he replied.

He looked at her forehead, which was dripping with sweat from the journey, and then took out a soft, scented silk handkerchief and wiped it here and there on her face.

"Well," he said affectionately, "you are all well."

They are so close together again, they are very happy-you can look at me and I look at you again.Then, when the fits of joy and enthusiasm had subsided a little, he said:

"When is Charlie going out again?"

"I don't know," she answered. "He says there's something to do in the shop right now."

Hurstwood was serious and pensive.After a while, he raised his head and said:
"Go out and leave him."

He glanced at the boys in the boat as if the request just now was an insignificant matter.

"Where are we going?" she asked.Her expression was similar to his.She rolled the gloves back and forth and looked at a nearby tree.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

From the tone of his voice, she felt as if she had to express her reluctance to settle here.

"We can't stay in Chicago," she replied.

He didn't expect her to have such thoughts—he didn't expect to propose to leave the country.

"Why not?" he asked tenderly.

"Oh, because," she said, "because I don't want to."

After hearing this, he still felt very dull about its meaning.It doesn't sound serious, and the problem doesn't need to be solved immediately.

"Then I'll have to give up my position," he said.

According to the tone of his speech, it seems that this matter does not need to be taken very seriously.Carrie thought for a moment, admiring the present beauty.

"I don't like being in Chicago and having him here," she said.This refers to Drouet.

"It's a big city, dearest," replied Hurstwood, "and moving to the South Side is like moving to another part of the country."

He targeted the lot.

"Anyway," said Carrie, "I don't want to marry while he's here. I don't want to elope."

The words of marriage startled Hurstwood.He saw that this was exactly what she was thinking--it was not easy, he felt.For a moment it occurred to him that he could marry again in private, and the thought brightened his bewildered thoughts for a moment.But he couldn't figure out how it would end in the future.He really couldn't see any future for him other than to get her affection.He looked at her again and thought, She is really a beauty.As long as she can love him, whatever entanglements it has! Because of her objection, she is worth more in his eyes.Worth fighting for her, that's all.How different it was from women who were easily committed! He felt contemptuous of such women.

"You don't know when he's going out?" Hurstwood asked quietly.

She shook her head.

He sighed.

"You're a made up girl, aren't you?" he said after a while, looking straight into her eyes.

As soon as she heard this, she felt a wave of tenderness sweeping through her whole body.He could adore her so much—it was something to be proud of for a man like him to be so devoted to her.

"No," she said timidly, "but what can I do?"

He crossed his arms again and looked across the lawn into the street.

"I wish," he said sadly, "that you come to me. I don't wish to leave you like this. What's the good of waiting? You won't be any happier, will you?"

"Happier?" she cried softly. "You know it's not like that."

"That's the way we are," he went on in the same tone, "wasting our days. If you're not happy, do you think I'll be? Most of the time I just sit down and write you .You hear me, Carrie," he cried, raising his voice, suddenly intensifying, and looking straight into hers, "I can't live without you, that's all. Ah," he concluded. When he said that, he spread his white palms, expressing a look of desperation, "What should I do?"

This call to leave everything to her decision touched Carrie's heart.This titular burden tugs at a woman's heartstrings.

"Could you wait a little longer?" she said softly. "I'll try to find out when he leaves."

"What's the use?" he asked, sticking to his old tune.

"Well, maybe we can arrange a way."

She couldn't see it any more clearly than she had before, but she was getting into the state of mind where a woman obeys out of sympathy.

But Hurstwood didn't understand that.He was wondering how to persuade her--how to win her heart and throw Drouet away.He wondered how far her affection for him would take her, he thought.He was thinking of a question to make her express her own feelings.

Finally, it occurred to him a tentative idea, the kind that tends to conceal our own desires, while at the same time enabling ourselves to understand what difficulties others put us in, in order to find a way out.This idea seems to have nothing to do with his intentions in this regard, and he has not thought about it seriously, but just talking casually.

"Carrie," he said, looking at her face with an air of seriousness which he didn't really feel, "suppose I came to you next week or this week about this— Or, tonight—to tell you, I must go out—I can't stay a minute longer, and I'm gone forever—will you come with me?"

His lover returned him a glance of infinite affection, and her answer was ready before the words escaped his lips.

"It will," she said.

"You won't argue anymore, or say, think of another way?"

"No, if you can't wait."

He smiled when he saw that she was serious about him.He also thought, what a good opportunity this is, to travel for a week or two.He would have told her that he had said it in jest, and that he might as well put the sweet prim thought aside.However, what I just said, the effect is too pleasing.He didn't say anything.

"Suppose we don't have time to get married here?" he went on.This is what he said after he had just said it when he caught another thought.

"If we get married as soon as we get to the end of our journey, that's all right."

"I mean it," he said.

"Ok."

The morning seemed brighter to him now.He wondered how he had come up with such a thought.This is certainly impossible, but what a clever idea it is.He couldn't help smiling.It showed how much she loved him.Now there is no doubt in his mind at all.He will find a way to win her over.

"Okay," he said in a joking tone, "I will come to you one evening in the next few days." He laughed out loud as he spoke.

"But I won't live with you unless you marry me," said Carrie thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't ask for that," he said tenderly, taking her hand.

She is extremely happy now because she understands.The thought of him saving her like this made her love him even more.As for him, he didn't pay attention to the requirement of getting married.He was thinking that such affection showed that nothing could stand in the way of his ultimate happiness.

"Let's go for a walk," he said cheerfully, rising to survey the various sights of the lovely park.

"All right," said Carrie.

They passed the Irishman, who was watching them enviously from behind.

"What a couple," he said to himself, "they must be rich."

(End of this chapter)