sister carrie

Chapter 32

Chapter 18 Just Crossed That Line: Saying Hello, Saying Goodbye
On the evening of No. 16, Hurstwood's ingenious hand showed extraordinary magical powers.He called out to his friends--and his friends were numerous and influential--that this was where they should be present, and the result was a surge in the number of tickets Mr. Quincel sold for the branch.A four-line short message was published in all dailies.This was helped by Mr. Harry McCarron, a newspaper friend and editor-in-chief of the "Chicago Times".

"Ah, Harry," Hurstwood said to him one night, as Harry was drinking in a pub before heading home late at night, "I see you can do the guys a favor."

"What's the matter?" McCarron said happily when he saw that the manager dressed up was greeting him.

"The Custer branch had a little funfest for themselves, and they were hoping for a little news in the paper. You know what it is, just a quick tidbit or two, saying something about what's going on."

"Of course," said McCarron, "I can arrange that for you, George."

Hurstwood, meanwhile, kept himself entirely behind the scenes.No one in the Coster branch had any idea that their little fun was going so well.Mr. Harry Basel was regarded as a star in such activities.

On the sixteenth, Hurstwood's friends acted as they had answered the call of the Senate in Rome.At the beginning, when he thought of helping Carrie, he ensured that there would be a large number of well-dressed, well-intentioned and supportive audiences.

As for the elementary school student, she has already mastered the role she played very well.Although the thought of facing the audience under the footlights of the stage, I can't help but feel flustered and worry about my own fate.She comforted herself that there were dozens of people, both men and women, who were equally frightened by the results of the rehearsal.She could not, however, think that the danger of the failure of the whole show was not without her own share of responsibility.She was worried that she would forget her lines, and she was also worried that she might not be able to control her emotions about her actions now.Think about it for a while, I wish I didn't take this matter at the beginning.Then I thought about what to do if I was paralyzed with fright, stood there, my face was white, I couldn't breathe well, I didn't know what to say, and I ruined the whole show.

In terms of co-stars, Mr. Bomberg was gone.The incorrigible man couldn't stand the director's criticism and withdrew.Mrs. Morgan was still there, but jealous and determined to compare herself with Carrie if nothing else.A wandering professional was cast for the part of Rey, a poor actor to be sure, but no less flustered than those who had never seen an audience.Although he was advised to say less about his past acting, he still put on a show and bluffed, as if people would be convinced of his identity just by looking at his behavior and other superficial things.

"It's easy enough," he said to Mrs. Morgan in his affectedly staged voice, "I don't worry about ideas. It's the character's spirit that's rare, you know."

Carrie did not like the presence of this man, but as an actress she could not tolerate his qualities.She knew in her heart that she would have to endure his false love tonight.

By six o'clock she was ready to go.She doesn't have to worry about the costumes for the show.She practiced her makeup once in the morning.By one o'clock, she'd rehearsed, got things in order, went home to read her lines one last time, and waited for night to come.

To this end, the branch sent a carriage.Drouet sat with her as far as the gate.They first went to a nearby store to buy some cigarettes or something.The little actress rushed straight to the dressing room with a restless expression, and began the anxiously anticipated make-up, which would transform her simple girl into Laura the courtesan.

The flash of gas lamps, the open suitcase, as if traveling, or for an exhibition, and the messy sundries in the makeup box-rouge, pearl powder, white powder, cork, black ink, pencil for eyelashes, wig, scissors , mirrors, curtains—in short, make-up props, everything is readily available, and these naturally create an atmosphere.Many things had affected her since she had come to town, but always elusive.The present new atmosphere is far more intimate.This is completely different from those resplendent high-rise buildings, only knowing to wave to her coldly, driving her away, only allowing her to look up and pay respects from afar.This time, it was as if someone held her hand kindly and said, "Honey, come in." Everything opened up for her automatically.How great are the names on the billboards, how magnificent are the long reports in newspapers, how colorful are the costumes on the stage, what is the atmosphere of carriages, flowers, and all kinds of beautiful performances.This is no hallucination.It seemed as if she had stumbled into a secret passage, and behold, she came to a room full of pearls, full of joy!
Dressing up with a beating heart in her stage booth, she heard the noise outside the door, saw Mr. Quincel hurrying up and down, noticed Mrs. While making preparations, I also saw all the cast and crew moving around, worrying about the outcome of the performance.At this moment, she couldn't help but think that it would be great if all this could be maintained. If she could act well this time, and then at some point, she could become a real actress at some point, that would be perfect.This thought firmly occupied her mind.It echoed in her ears like the tune of an old song.

Outside the small passage, another scene was being played out.If it hadn't been for Hurstwood's intervention, this small hall might have been roughly full, because the general members are not uninterested in the welfare activities of the conference.Word of Hurstwood, however, had spread.Now it's going to be a big event.All four boxes have been booked out.Norman McNair Hale and his wife had one.This is a big deal.C. Le Walker, a textile merchant with a fortune of at least $20, accounts for another.At the same time, a well-known coal merchant has been persuaded to buy a third one.Hurstwood and his friends took the fourth.Among his friends was Drouet.The people who flocked here were not of high status, or even famous people in the region in the general sense.

They were the kind of people who were famous in another kind of circle--people of moderate fortunes and dignitaries of secret societies.These gentlemen of the Freemasonry knew each other well.What they valued was the ability to amass a small fortune, to have a happy little family, to own a carriage or a carriage, perhaps to wear fine clothes, and to have a good position in a shopping mall.As for Hurstwood, judging by such standards, he should be an extremely happy person. Of course, his mentality is superior. Friendship; such a person is naturally a respectable person.He was more famous than the average man in his circle, and was considered to have considerable influence and considerable money.

Tonight, he can be said to be like a fish in water.He came here directly from Lecter's in a carriage with some friends.In the passage he met Drouet, who had just come in to buy some cigars.The five of them were now chatting lively together, talking about the people present, and about the general development of the branch affairs.

"Who's here?" said Hurstwood, entering the theater, which was already brightly lit, and where a group of gentlemen were laughing and talking in the vacant space behind the seats.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Hurstwood," said the first person recognized.

"Nice to meet you," said Hurstwood, shaking his hand lightly.

"It looks like one, doesn't it?"

"Really, that's true," said the manager.

"Coster seems to have members supporting it." The friend said.

"It should be," said the shrewd manager. "I'm glad it did."

"Hullo, George," said another chubby citizen.His outsized weight left a large swath of his starched shirt showing over his stomach. "How are you?"

"It couldn't be better," said the manager.

"What brings you here? You're not a member of the Coster branch."

"Good intentions," said the manager. "Like seeing the old folks, you know that."

"Madam is here too?"

"She can't come tonight. She's not feeling well."

"What a pity—hope it's not serious."

"No, it's just a little uncomfortable."

"I remember Mrs. Hurstwood, she went to St. Jo with you that time," and at this point the new visitor began a long series of trivial reminiscences of the past, until there was something more. As many friends as possible.

"Ah, George, hello," said another mild-mannered West End politician and branch member. "My God, it's great to see you again. How's it going?"

"Very well, I see you've been nominated for city senator."

"Yeah, we asked the people there, and it didn't take much effort to get it done."

"What do you think Henaci would do now?"

"Oh, he's going back to the brick business. You know, he has a brick kiln."

"I don't know that," said the manager. "I think he feels bad about the failure."

"Perhaps," said another, blinking cleverly.

Some of the more acquainted friends he invited came by car one after another.They entered with solemn steps, well-dressed, and airs of self-importance.

"They're all coming," said Hurstwood, turning away to one of the people who were accosting.

"Yes," replied the newcomer.This gentleman is about 45 years old.

"Listen," he whispered cheerfully in Hurstwood's ear, taking him by the shoulders, "if the play doesn't go well, I'll knock you over the head."

"You should pay some money to see old friends. Whatever it is!"

Another asked, "Is it any good?"

The manager replied: "I don't know, I don't think so." Then he raised his finger gracefully, "For the branch."

"Guys come a lot, huh?"

"Yeah, go to Shanahan. He asked about you just now."

In this way, the little theater resounded with the noises, noises of rich clothes, and well-meaning polite words of some well-established people in society, most of which were caused by this person's arrangements.If at any point during the half-hour before the curtain parted, you glanced at him, you knew he was one of a party of important men--five or six of them, one huge, with a bared chest. A mass of snow-white shirts, with shiny pins, showed how prosperous these men were.The gentleman who had brought his lady called his name and shook his hand.There was a click of the seat, and the conductor saluted him, but he seemed to ignore it.He was evidently a beacon among them, and from his character shone the ambitions of those who greeted him.People recognized his status, flattered him, and even flattered him.Through all of this, one can see clearly the person's status.He is both small and great.

(End of this chapter)