sister carrie

Chapter 45 (1)

Chapter 27 We looked up at the stars when we were about to be flooded (1)
Returning from his distraught walk in the street after the decisive letter from McGregor, James and Hay, he had come across Carrie's letter that morning.When he saw the handwriting, his heart was hot, and he opened it hastily.

"So," thought he, "she loves me, or she would never have written this letter."

The tone of the letter frustrated him for the first few minutes, but he soon pulled himself together, "If she hadn't thought of me, she wouldn't have written this at all."

This was the source of his strength over depression.From the wording of the letter, he could not dig out anything, but he thought he understood the spirit of the letter.

It was a clear rebuke, but he was relieved by it - if it was not a sad thing - it could also be said to express something very human indeed.He had always been content with himself, and now he looked for comfort outside himself--and in that direction.That mysterious string of affection! How it binds us together!
Color came to his face, and he forgot for a moment the letter from McGregor, James, and Hay.If only he could win Carrie, maybe he could get away with all these entanglements--maybe it didn't matter.As long as he didn't lose Carrie, he didn't care what his wife did, and he got up and walked up and down, dreaming of the sweet dream of living with his lovely sweetheart.

But it was not long before the old trouble came back, and how exhausting it was! He thought again of tomorrow, and of the lawsuit.He did nothing and just slipped away all afternoon.It is a quarter past three, and by five o'clock the lawyers will be going home.He can stay until noon tomorrow.While he was thinking this way, the last quarter of an hour passed again, and it was five o'clock now.He gave up the idea of ​​seeking a lawyer that day, and turned his thoughts to Carrie.

You know, this person has no self-knowledge.He didn't bother about it, all his thoughts were on how to persuade Carrie.There was nothing wrong with it, he loved her.Their mutual happiness is based on this.If only Drouet were not there.

As he thought triumphantly in this way, he remembered that he needed some clean shirts in the morning.

He went out and bought shirts and a half dozen ties, and went to the Balmer Hotel.As he went in he seemed to see Drouet taking the key and going upstairs.Surely not Drouet! Perhaps, he thought, a temporary change of lodging.He went straight to the information desk.

"Is Mr. Drouet here?" Hurstwood asked the clerk.

"I suppose so," replied the clerk, leafing through the passenger book. "Oh, yes."

"Is that so?" exclaimed Hurstwood, without concealing his sense of wonder. "Are you alone?" he continued.

"Yes," said the clerk.

Hurstwood turned away and kept his mouth shut, both expressing and concealing his real feelings.

"What happened?" he thought to himself. "They had a fight."

He hurried to his room in a hurry and changed his shirt.It was at this moment that he made up his mind: was Carrie alone, or had she gone somewhere else? It was his duty to find out, and he resolved to go to her at once.

"I know what I should do," thought he, "I'll go to the door and ask if Mr. Drouet is in. That way I'll find out if he's there, and where Carrie is."

Thinking of this, he almost danced.He decided to go right after supper.

Coming down from his room at six o'clock, he looked round to see if Drouet was there, and then went out to supper.However, I was very anxious about this trip and couldn't bear it.Before starting, he thought he should find out where Drouet was, and returned to the hotel.

"Is M. Drouet out?" he asked the clerk.

"No," replied the clerk, "he's in the room. Would you like to pass the card?"

"No, I'll see him later," replied Hurstwood, and went out.

He picked up a car on Madison Street and went straight to the Ogton apartment, this time boldly walking up to the gate.The maid heard his knock and opened the door.

"Is Mr. Drouet in?" asked Hurstwood kindly.

"He's gone out, he's out of town," said the girl.She had heard Carrie say so to Mrs. Hale.

"Is Mrs. Drouet there?"

"No, she's gone to the theater."

"Is that so?" said Hurstwood, rather surprised, and then, as if on a matter of business, "Do you know which theater it is?"

The maid did not really know where she had gone, but she did not like Hurstwood, and wishing to make him suffer, replied, "Yes, to the Holly Theatre."

"Thank you," replied the manager, moving his hat lightly with his fingers to signal him to go away.

"I'm going to see the Holly Theater," he thought, but he didn't actually go.Before returning to the center of the city, he had considered the whole thing on the way, and finally decided that it would be no good to do so.Desperate as he was to see Carrie, he knew that someone else must be there, and she would not wish him to speak of it there.He might do it every once in a while—in the morning.It's just that in the morning, he still has a lawyer problem in front of him.

This little pilgrimage poured cold water on his high spirits, and he fell back into his old troubles.When I walked to the hotel, I was eager to relieve my boredom.Some gentlemen were talking vigorously, and the air was very lively.A group of local politicians were conferring around a round cherrywood table at the back of the room, and a few young pleasure-seekers were schmoozing in the bar before watching the second half of the show.A shabby-looking man with a red nose and a top hat was sipping ale quietly by himself at the other end of the bar.Hurstwood nodded to the politicians and went into his office.

About ten o'clock, one of his friends, Frank A. Dent, a local sportsman who likes horse racing, came here, saw Hurstwood alone in the office, and went to the door .

"Hello, George," he called.

"How do you do, Frank," said Hurstwood, somewhat relieved to see him. "Sit down, please," he said, pointing to a chair in the small room.

"What's the matter, George?" asked Dante. "You're looking sullen. Lost money on a horse race? Don't you?"

"It's not very comfortable tonight. It's a little cold in those days."

"Have some whiskey, George," said Dante. "You should know that."

Hurstwood smiled.

While they were talking, some other friends of Hurstwood's entered.Shortly after eleven o'clock, when the theater was over, several actors arrived--among them famous actors.

Then they fell into one of those rambling chitchats so common in American entertainment venues, where fame-seekers take pride in talking to the rich and famous.If Hurstwood had a penchant, it was a penchant for celebrities.He thought that he himself, if he could be categorized, would belong to the category of celebrities.He was too boastful to flatter.He was too sensitive, and he would not strictly abide by the social position he occupied even if those present did not appreciate him.However, judging from the present situation, he can regard himself as a gentleman, and be regarded as a friend and a peer in this generation of capable people without any doubt. This is his happiest thing.On such occasions, he will be happy to "socialize".When the camaraderie gets fairly heated, he's even allowed to go a little wider and enjoy glass-to-glass drinks with his colleagues.When it was his turn to be the host, he strictly followed the rules and paid the bills, as if he was the same as an outsider.If he was ever nearly drunk—or flushed, but not really drunk—it was because he was surrounded by those kinds of people, because he was one of the famous people he talked to.Although he was in a bad mood tonight, he felt more at ease when he found a companion. Now that there are famous people gathering together, he temporarily put his worries aside and participated in it as much as he wanted.

It doesn't take long for the excess wine to fade away.Stories popped up one by one--those farcical tales that are forever told, the ones that abound in American gossip under these circumstances.

It was twelve o'clock, and it was time to close, and the group left one after another.Hurstwood shook hands with them warmly.He was smiling all over his face, he had already reached such a situation, his heart was sober, but he was full of all kinds of fantasies.He felt as if his troubles were not very serious.Walking into his office, he began to look through some books, waiting for the clerk and accountant to leave the store, and they left quickly.

It was the manager's duty, and he himself had this old rule, to check in after the people had all gone, to see if it was all over in a good way, and it was safe to spend the night.According to the rules, all cash is not allowed to be left in the store unless it is received after the bank's office hours.All cash is locked in the safe by the accountant, and the accountant and the boss are the joint custodians of the secret method to open the safe.However, as a precaution, Hurstwood checked the cash drawers and safes every night to see if they were secure.Then he would lock his office and turn on the light next to the safe.After that, he left.

He never found anything wrong, except tonight.After closing his desk, he stepped out and checked the safe.His old method was to jerk the safe, and this time, the door of the safe was thrown open.Not without surprise, he looked again and found that the cash box was the same as it was during the day, and it was obviously not put away.His first thought, of course, was to check the drawers and close the safe door.

"I'm going to speak to Mayhew about it in the morning," he thought to himself.

When Mayhew left the store half an hour ago, he naturally thought that he had turned the lock button of the box door and closed the lock.He never made a mistake, but Mayhew had other things on his mind tonight.He was thinking about a problem in his own business.

"I'll take a look here." The manager thought, pulling out the cash drawer.He didn't know why he was looking here. This was an unnecessary action, and it might not have happened on another occasion.

As soon as he pulled it away, he suddenly saw a stack of banknotes, one bundle, 1000 yuan each, just like the ones issued by the bank.He couldn't say how much it was, but he stopped and looked it over carefully.Then he opened the second cash drawer.In this drawer is the income of the day.

"I didn't know Fitzferald and Moai put money like that," he said to himself. "They must have forgotten the money."

He looked at the other drawers, then stopped again.

"Count it up." A voice rang in his ear.

(End of this chapter)