sister carrie

Chapter 38 (2)

Chapter 22 The Explosion of Gunpowder: Family and Carnal Conflict (2)
"Did you go to the show last night?" she asked him when another of Hurstwood's friends greeted her as she sat down in the box.

"Yeah, you didn't come."

"No," she replied, "I'm not well."

"Your husband said the same thing to me," he replied, "ah, it was really fun. Much better than I expected."

"How many people go there?"

"It was full. It was a great secret society event. I saw quite a few of your friends—Mrs. Harrison, Mrs. Barnes, Mrs. Collins."

"Quite a social event."

"It is. My wife had a good time."

Mrs. Hurstwood bit her lip.

"Well," she thought, "that's what he does. And tell my friends I'm sick and can't come."

She wondered what made him go alone.There's something behind it.She racked her brains to find out why.

In the evening.When Hurstwood came home, she was silent, sullen and eager to explain everything, to vent this grievance.She wants to know what this unique move means.She can conclude that behind all this, there must be something more important than what she has heard, so that out of malicious curiosity and distrust and the lingering anger of the morning, they are mixed together, and she His face was full of anger, he walked in and out, his eyes revealed heavy shadows, and the cold lines around his lips condensed the muscles of a barbarian.

On the other hand, we might as well believe that when the manager returns home, the sun is shining emotionally.He talked to Carrie, and made up his mind, and this excited his spirits, so that he was in such good spirits that he sang with delight.He was proud of himself, proud of his success, proud of Carrie.He might as well be on good terms with the whole society, and he has no grudge against his wife.He wanted to be happy, forget about her, and just live in the atmosphere of youth and joy that had revived in him.

The home, therefore, now seemed to him a pleasing and comfortable place.In the drawing-room he found an evening paper, where the maid had left it, and Mrs Hurstwood had forgotten it.In the dining room the tables were clean, covered with cloths, napkins, bright glass and richly decorated china.Through an open door, he glanced into the kitchen, where the fire was roaring and dinner was being prepared.In the backyard, little George was playing with a newly bought puppy.In the living room, Jessica was playing the piano, and the melodious melodious sound of the waltz filled every corner of this cozy home.Like him, everyone seemed to be alive again like him, full of youth and beauty, and seeking joy.He sensed that he was content with everything around him.He glanced cheerfully at the covered table and polished sideboard, then went upstairs to read his newspaper in the comfortable armchair in the sitting-room.From the sitting room, he could look out the window into the street.He entered the room and saw his wife combing her hair, thinking about something.

He walked gently, thinking in his heart to reconcile any emotions that might exist by saying a word of peace or a promise of no trouble.But Mrs. Hurstwood was silent.He sat down in the big chair, leaned slightly to be more comfortable, opened the newspaper, and began to read.He saw an interesting piece of news about a volleyball match between Chicago and Detroit, and he couldn't help smiling.

As he did so, Mrs. Hurstwood watched him now and then through the mirror in front of her.She noticed his cheerful, contented demeanor, his nonchalant breezy demeanor, his smiling sense of humor, which only repelled her more.She thought to herself, how could he put on such a pose in front of her, and continue to do it, when he had been so affected, so indifferent, and neglected her, thinking she would put up with it all.she thought.What was she going to say to him--something she was going to emphasize when she said it, and how was she going to move on to the whole thing until she thought it was satisfactory.Yes, the anger like a sharp sword did not erupt temporarily only because she was thinking of ways to retaliate.

At this time Hurstwood read a rather humorous news story about a stranger who had come into town and had an affair with a gambler.He found it very amusing after reading it.Then, he leaned back and laughed to himself.All he wished was that he could get his wife's attention and read to her.

"Haha," he chuckled, as if talking to himself, "that's funny."

Mrs. Hurstwood went on brushing her hair, scorning a glance at him.

He leaned back again and continued to watch another news item.Later, I felt that it was time for him to find a chance to show his sense of humor.Julia might still be upset about what had happened this morning, but that was easy to fix.In fact she was wrong.But he doesn't care.If she's happy, she can go to Huakexia immediately.The sooner the better.He'd be ready to tell it as soon as he got the chance, and that way the whole thing would be over.

"Did you notice," he said at last when he saw another news item, "Julia, they've sued to force Illinois Central to move the railroad away from Lakeshore?" he asked.

She hardly wanted to answer, but she said "no," stiffly as she said it.

Hurstwood pricked up his ears.There was a strong vibration in her voice.

"It would be a good thing if they did that," he went on, half to himself and half to her, though he sensed that something was wrong on that one.Very cautiously he drew his attention back to his paper, while in the depths of his mind he listened for any slight sound that might reveal to him what might be going on.

As a matter of fact, there is no one else who has been as alert as Hurstwood--observing and reacting to all kinds of atmospheres, especially from his level of thought. keen.He would not have made such a mistake if he hadn't been holding a completely different set of ideas about his wife who was having a nervous attack.Had Carrie's affection for him not still affected him, had not the self-satisfaction which her promise inspired in him had not died away, he would not have looked upon this home with joy.Things weren't particularly bright and interesting on this evening.It was he who was greatly mistaken.If he had come home in his usual frame of mind, it might have been more suited to his present situation.

After reading the newspaper for a while, he felt that he should try to ease the situation more or less.Obviously, his wife was not an easy reconciliation.Therefore he said:

"Where did George get that dog in the yard?"

"I don't know," she said abruptly.

He put the newspaper on his lap and stared aimlessly out of the window.He didn't want to lose his temper, but wanted to resolutely suppress his temper, be kind, and ask a few questions to achieve some kind of room for maneuver.

"Why are you so upset about what happened this morning?" he said afterward. "We don't have to argue about it. You know, if you want Wakeshire, you can go by yourself."

"So you can hang around here and hang out with someone, can't you?" she cried, turning toward him with a determined air and all the rage and sarcasm.

As if he had been slapped, he stopped talking.His originally conciliatory attitude was immediately cast aside.At once he retreated to the defensive, hesitating to find words to answer her.

"What do you mean?" he said afterwards, straightening up and staring at the icy figure in front of him, while she, ignoring him, continued to dress herself in the mirror.

"You know what I mean," she said later, as if the words contained endless information—she just didn't want to say it.

"Well, I don't know," he said.Tough, but restless, wary of what might happen.The woman's decisive attitude robbed him of his superiority in battle.

She did not answer.

"Hmph!" he muttered, turning his head to one side, and it was the weakest thing he ever did, with no certainty of success.

Mrs. Hurstwood noticed his lack of confidence.She turned toward him, as if, like a wild animal, about to deliver the fatal blow.

"I want the money to go to Huakexia tomorrow morning," she said.

He looked at her in astonishment.He had never seen such a hard, determined look in her eyes--such a look of cruelty.She seemed to have the whole picture in her mind - full of confidence and determined to wrest control from him.He felt that even if he tried his best, he would not be able to defend.He had to switch to offense.

"What do you mean?" he said, jumping to his feet. "You do! What's the matter with you to-night? I want to know."

"I (haven't) anything," she said, and she was also fired up. "I want the money. After this, you can brag."

"Bragging, uh! What! You can't get anything out of me. What do you mean by being so cynical?"

"Where were you last night?" she said.These words are hot and spicy. "Who was that ride on Washington Boulevard? Who were you with at the theater when George saw you? You think I'm a fool to play around with you? You think I'll stay home and let you tell me What about 'too busy' and 'can't come' while blatantly blaming and making up that I can't come? I want you to understand that, as far as I'm concerned, you've reached the end of your bragging rights. You can't treat me Dominate as you like, and it's the same with my children. I'll make a clean break with you."

"It's a lie," he said, cornered and unable to find an excuse.

"Crap, uh!" she said, fierce and reserved. "If you say it's a lie, say it, but I know it."

"It's a lie, I tell you," he said in a low, sharp voice, "that you've been looking for some base slander everywhere for months, and now you think you've found it at last. You think, you might as well suddenly You can get the upper hand if you come up with something in between. Well, I tell you, you can’t do it. As long as I stay in this house for a day, I am the owner of this house, and you are fine, anyone As a person, if you can’t ask me to do something, I have to do it—do you hear me clearly?”

He approached her step by step, with a fierce light in his eyes.There was something cold, mocking, condescending about the woman, as if she had come to dominate, and it was enough for him to strangle her for a moment.

She gazed at him—a boa constrictor at ease.

"I didn't make you do anything," she replied, "I just told you what I want?"

The answer was so cold, and so menacing, that it unnerved him.

"I'm telling you," he said afterward, recovering a little courage, "what is it that you can't have?"

"We'll see," she said, "and I'll find out what my rights are. Maybe you can talk to a lawyer, if you don't want to talk to me."

This is a top-notch drama, and there will naturally be consequences.Hurstwood was defeated.He understood now that he had more than scares to deal with.He was faced with a difficult problem.How to put it, he doesn't have much.All the fun of the day was gone.He was uneasy, embarrassed, and disgusted.What should he do?
"As you please," he said at last, "I don't want to talk to you anymore." And with that, he strode out the door.

(End of this chapter)