sister carrie

Chapter 46 (2)

Chapter 27 We looked up at the stars when we were about to be flooded (2)
He reached into the first drawer, picked up the stack of bills, and divided them into bundles.It is 50 yuan and 100 yuan banknotes, which are divided into bundles of every 1000 yuan.He thought he had counted ten.

"Why didn't I close the safe?" His heart said to itself, and he hesitated.

In answer, the extremely strange words sounded:
"Have you ever had 1 yuan in cash in your life?"

Ah, the manager thought he had never had so much money.All his fortune was slowly amassed and is now in the name of his wife.The total value is more than 4 yuan - but she wants to take it.

When he thought about it, he hesitated in his heart, then pushed the drawer in, closed the safe door, and kept one hand on the lock button.The knob is easy to lock, thus cutting off all temptation.He is still hesitating.Then he went to the window and drew the curtains.Then try to lock the door earlier.What was going on here made him so suspicious.Why did he move so lightly, he walked back to the other end of the safe, as if to rest his arms, and to think.Then he went to unlock the door of his small office and turned on the light.He also opened his desk, sat down, and unfolded his strange thoughts.

"The safe is open," said a voice, "just the crack and the lock is not locked."

The manager struggled with a mess of thoughts.All the entanglements of the day came to my mind one by one now.It occurred to him again that here was a solution.Money can solve everything.If only he had the money, and Carrie.He stood up straight, his eyes on the floor.

"Is this method okay?" His heart was asking.In answer, he raised his hand and scratched his head.

The manager is not a fool to be led astray by such a wrong idea, but well, his situation is also special.The wine flowed in his blood vessels, and the wine crawled into his head, making him feel hot when he saw things, and it also dyed the relationship between 1 yuan and his future.He saw a limitless future in it.He could win Carrie, oh yes, sure! He could get rid of his wife.And that letter has to be discussed tomorrow morning.He needn't answer the letter.He went back to the safe and put his hand on the button.Then he opened the safe door and pulled the money drawer out.

Once the drawer had been pulled out and brought before his eyes, it seemed foolish to leave it alone.Ah, how many years you could live with Carrie Ann.

God, what's the matter? For the first time in his life, he was so tense, as if a stern hand had been placed on his shoulder.He looked around frantically.No one, no sound at all.Someone was walking slowly on the sidewalk.He put the cash box and money back in the safe, and closed the safe door halfway again.

How those who are never shaken in conscience tremble in the conflict of duty and desire in the weaker mind, cannot be understood unless it is really described.Those who have never heard the tick-tock of the shaking heart, uttering the terrible and clear voice, "You steal, you shall not steal"; "You steal, you shall not steal", such people are not Know how to judge.Such spiritual conflicts are not only possible for people with highly developed sensitive natures.The most dull type of human beings, desires pull him to evil, at this time there will be a sense of justice to remind him, and this kind of power is directly proportional to his tendency to do evil.We must remember that this may not be due to the knowledge of justice, because the knowledge of justice is never due to the instinctive shrinking of animals from evil.Human beings are still first guided by instinct before being guided by knowledge.It's just instinct that reminds the criminal -- it's instinct (where highly developed reason doesn't exist) that gives the criminal a sense of danger, a sense of fear of doing something wrong.

In this way, the heart is always shaken at the first moment of falling into a crime that has never been committed in the past.The clock of thought will tick its hopes and its denials.To those who have never experienced such a mind, what happens next can only move them because it is a novelty to them.

When Hurstwood put the money back, his nature returned to his ease and calmness.No one is watching him, he is just alone, no one can say what he has thought about, this matter can be done by himself.

The drunkenness of the evening has not yet subsided.After this nameless fear, his forehead was still wet, his hands were still shaking, his body still smelled of alcohol, and his face was red.He didn't notice that time was passing.He thought about his current situation again, his eyes still saw the pile of money, and what he thought about in his heart was what the money would do.He paced back to his little room, then to the door, then to the safe.He put his hand on the lock button and opened it.The money is here! See if there is any danger!
He opened the drawer again and lifted the bill up.The bills are smooth, tightly bound, and easy to carry.In short, the volume is small, and he decided to take these banknotes.Yes, he wants to take it.He is going to put the money in his pocket.Then he looked at it and found that it couldn't fit there.His handbag! Of course, his handbag.It can fit in--everything can fit in, and no one will think of anything.He went into the small office and took it off the shelf.He put his handbag on the table now and went out to the safe.For some reason, he didn't want to put a handbag in that big room.He took the banknotes first, and then the day's odd income, all of which he wanted.He closed the empty drawers, closed the iron doors almost all the way, and stood aside thinking.

Under such circumstances, the shaking of a person's heart can almost be said to be something that cannot be explained clearly, but it is absolutely real.It was impossible for Hurstwood to be straightforward.He had to think about it—think about it, decide if it was the best way.Governed by his passion for Carrie, and by the mess of his own home, he always thought it the best way, but, having said that, he still wavered.He didn't know what harm it would do him--how quickly he would regret it.This situation, in which the real ethical concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, never once occurred to him, and never occurred to him under any circumstances.

After putting all the money in the handbag, a sudden feeling of disgust came over me.He won't--no! Imagine what kind of scandal it would cause.The police? The police will track him down.He had to run, and where did he go? Oh, how dreadful it was to be a fugitive from the law! He opened the two money-boxes, and put all the money back.In a panic, he got carried away and put the money in the wrong money box.The moment he opened the safe door, he thought he remembered how he had misplaced it, and he opened the safe door again, and the two money-boxes were mixed up.

He took the money box out and put it in order, and now the fear is gone.Why should he be afraid?
While the money was still in his hand, there was a click, and the lock clicked, and the spring clicked! Was it him? He took hold of the knob, and pulled hard.Locked, God, now he's involved, that's understandable.

The moment he realized that the safe must be locked, cold sweat broke out on his brow and he trembled all over.He glanced about him, and made up his mind at once, and there was no time for delay now.

"Suppose I put this on top of the safe," he said to himself, "and leave, they'll still know who got it. I'm the last to close, and other things will happen."

He immediately became a do-it-yourselfer.

"I must get away," he thought.

He hurried into his small room, took his light coat and hat, locked his desk, and clutched the handbag.Then he extinguished all the lamps except one, and opened the door, trying to put on his usual air of self-confidence, which was almost gone after all.He regretted it quickly now.

"Wish it wasn't done well," he said. "It was wrong."

Walking steadily down the street, he greeted a policeman he knew who was trying to open doors.He must get out of town, and quickly.

"What about the time of the train?" he thought.

He immediately took out his watch and looked at it. It was almost 01:30.

He stopped at the door of the first pharmacy, and he saw a long-distance telephone booth inside.This is a famous red room, which has the first private telephone booth installed.

"I want to use your phone," he said to the night clerk.

The clerk nodded.

"1643, please," he said to the central office after he had looked up the number for Michigan Central Station.He quickly got through to the ticket office.

"What time does the train for Detroit leave?" he asked.

The other party explained the driving time.

"No more tonight?"

"There are no berths left. Well, there are," he went on. "There's a mail train leaving here at three o'clock."

"Well," said Hurstwood, "what time is Detroit?"

He was calculating that if he could get there, and cross the river to Canada, he could get to Mondrian in time.He was relieved to hear that he could go there at noon.

"Mayhew won't open the safe before nine o'clock in the morning," he thought, "and they won't find me until noon."

Then he thought of Carrie, and if she was to be found quickly, she must go with him.He jumped into a nearby carriage.

"To the Ogton Apartments," he said hastily, "I'll give you a dollar if you run faster."

The coachman speeded up his horse, and the horse galloped forward, still quite fast.Along the way, Hurstwood considered what to do.When he reached his destination, he hurried up the steps and rang the bell to wake the maid.

"Is Mrs. Drouet in?" he asked.

"Yes," said the maid, greatly astonished.

"Tell her to get dressed and come to the door right away. Her husband is in the hospital wounded and wants to see her."

The maid hurried upstairs, and seeing the man's nervous and solemn expression, she believed it was true.

"What!" said Carrie, lighting the gas and looking for her clothes.

"Mr. Drouet is wounded and is in the hospital. He wants to see you. The carriage is downstairs."

Carrie dressed hastily, and came down quickly, forgetting everything but the essentials.

"Drouet is wounded," said Hurstwood quickly, "and he wants to see you. Quick!"

Carrie, dazed, believed it.

"Go in," said Hurstwood, helping her into the car and jumping in after himself.

The driver turned around.

"Michigan Central," he said, standing up, in a voice so low that Carrie couldn't hear him, "the sooner the better."

(End of this chapter)