sister carrie

Chapter 62 (2)

Chapter 35 To no avail: sad face (2)
He was idle thinking like this, calmly in the hotel, when a well-dressed man walked past the lounge, stopped, took a closer look, as if he was afraid that his memory might be wrong, and then walked over.Hurstwood recognized Cargill, proprietor of a large stable in Chicago, where they had last met on the evening of Carrie's play at Arvary Hall.He immediately recalled vividly how the man had brought his wife to shake hands.

Hurstwood was at a loss.There was a troubled look in his eyes.

"Oh, it's Hurstwood!" said Cargill.He recalls it now, and feels rather sorry for not recognizing it right away in the first place, and almost missing the chance to meet.

"Yes," said Hurstwood, "how are you?"

"Very well," said Cakir, uneasy about having something to say, "living here?"

"No," said Hurstwood, "it's an appointment to see someone."

"I know you've left Chicago. I was wondering what's going on with you."

"Oh, here I am now," replied Hurstwood, eager to slip away.

"Good job, I see?"

"Excellent."

"It's a pleasure to hear that."

They looked at each other, somewhat awkwardly.

"Well, I have an appointment upstairs with a friend. I have to go. Goodbye."

Hurstwood nodded.

"Damn it," he muttered, walking toward the door, "I knew something like this was going to happen."

He walked forward a few blocks.His watch only clocked 01:30.He wanted somewhere to go, or something to do.With the weather so bad, he just wanted to stay indoors.Then he felt his feet were wet and cold, and he got on a streetcar.When the car arrived at Jiutiao Street, it was the same as other places.When he got out of the car, he turned and walked down Seventh Street, but the road was very muddy.Wandering around without a fixed purpose is a real pain.He felt as if he had caught a cold.

At a corner, he waited for a train heading south.This is not a day for the street, he has to go home.

Carrie was greatly surprised to find him back at a quarter past three.

"It's hard to go out this day." That was all he could say, and he took off his coat and changed his shoes.

That night, he felt chilly all over his body, so he took quinine pills.Then a fever started, and it didn't subside until morning.The next day sat at home, with Carrie waiting on him.When he was sick he was a wretch, in a dark bathrobe, with shaggy hair, and not very handsome.His eyes are haggard and he looks old.Carrie sensed this, and it was not to her liking.She wanted someone who was kind and compassionate, but there was something about him that kept her away.

At dusk, in the twilight, he looked very ill, and she persuaded him to go to bed.

"It's better for you to sleep alone," she said, "and it will be easier for you. I'll make your bed right away."

"Okay," he said.

While she was dealing with these things, she was very depressed.

"What kind of life is this! What kind of life is this!" was what she thought at the time.

Once, during the day, when he was sitting by the fire, having lunch, and reading a newspaper, she passed by, glanced at him, and frowned.In the room ahead, where it was not too warm, she sat under the window and began to cry.This is the life she was meant to be, isn't it? Locked up in a small room with someone who is unemployed, lazy, and doesn't care about her, and she's just his servant now. People, that's all.

When I cried, my eyes were also red.When the bed was made, the gas lamp was lit, and everything was settled, call him in, and he noticed.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, looking into her face.His voice was rough and his hair was fluffy, which made him look even more scary.

"Nothing," said Carrie weakly.

"You cried," he said.

"No," she replied.

Not for love of him, he knew that.

"You don't have to cry," he said, getting into bed, "everything will be fine."

He got up a day or two later, but the weather was so bad that he stayed at home.Italian newspaper sellers now deliver newspapers to their doors.He took it very seriously.Several times, after reading the newspaper, I went out on the street.After meeting another old friend, though, he began to feel uneasy sitting in the hotel lounge.

He went home early every day, and then he stopped talking about where he was going.Winter is not the season for looking for trouble.

Since he stayed at home, he would naturally pay attention to Carrie's way of doing housework.She was far from perfect in the methods of housekeeping and financially, and it was her small failings in this respect that first attracted his attention.However, this was not before she often made the daily expenses of the family a pain in the ass.Sitting at home like him, the weeks passed quickly, and every Tuesday, Carrie would beg for money.

"You think we're saving as much as possible?" he said one Tuesday morning.

"I did my best," said Carrie.

This time, the words did not go on.But the next day he said:

"Have you ever been to Gensvale Market?"

"I didn't know there was such a market," said Carrie.

"People say things are much cheaper there."

Carrie paid no attention to this opinion.She didn't like that kind of thing at all.

"How much do you pay for a pound of meat?" he asked one day.

"Oh, there are several prices," said Carrie. "Twenty-two cents a pound for tender steak."

"It's expensive, isn't it?" he replied.

He asked other questions, and in time it became a habit of his.He asked various prices and memorized them.

His ability to manage household chores has also improved.Of course, start small.Carrie called to him one morning to fetch her hat.

"Where are you going, Carrie?" he asked.

"To the bakery," she replied,
"I'd like to go for you," he said.

She fell silent, and he went.Every afternoon, he would go to the corner of the road to buy newspapers.

"What do you want?" he would ask.

She gradually aroused him.However, in this way, she will not be able to get 12 yuan a week.

"Give me the money today," she said one Tuesday.

"How much?" he asked.

She understood what it meant.

"Well, about five dollars," she replied, "I owe the coal deliveryman."

On the same day, he said:

"I see that Italian on the corner sells coal for twenty-five cents a bushel. I'll do the business with him."

Carrie paid no attention to this.

"Okay," she said.

Then one day:
"George, I've got to have some coal tonight." Or, "You've got to get some meat for dinner tonight."

He would figure out what she needed and go buy it.

After implementing this method, the problem of miserliness arose again.

"I only got half a pound of steak," he said one afternoon, newspaper in hand. "We can't eat much."

Such misfortunes broke Carrie's heart.Her days were darkened, her soul was tormented.Oh, how the man has grown! All day, all day, he sits and reads his paper.Nothing else in the world seemed to attract his attention.Occasionally, when the weather is fine, he goes out for four or five hours, from eleven o'clock to four o'clock.She could do nothing but despise him bitterly.

In the case of Hurstwood, incapable of finding a way out, he was completely insensible.He has to withdraw some of his small savings every month, and now there is only 500 yuan left.He clung to the money, thinking that it would serve urgent purposes indefinitely.He sat at home all day and decided to change into some old clothes.This is one of the first things that comes up on bad weather days.For this reason, he only explained once at the beginning:
"The weather is so bad, I'll just wear this."

It has been worn like this ever since.

Besides, he always paid fifteen cents for shaving and ten cents for tip.When I encountered financial difficulties for the first time, the small account was reduced to five cents, and then the small account was not given at all.He tried to find a dime barber shop again, found that the beard was shaved quite satisfactorily, and took care of the business of this one from then on.Then it changed to every other day, and then to every three days, and then again, and then to the usual weekly shave, and on a Saturday, he was just as good looking as he could be.

Of course, now that he had lost his own self-respect, Carrie's respect for him had gone with it.She really didn't know what was going on in this man's heart.He still has some money on hand, and he still has a set of high-quality clothes. Once he is dressed up, he is not ugly.She hasn't forgotten her difficult struggle in Chicago, but she can't forget that she never gave up her struggle.But he has never tried hard, and now he doesn't even read the advertisement column in the newspaper.

In the end, she finally revealed her clear opinion.

"Why do you put so much butter on your ribs?" he said one night, standing in the kitchen.

"For the taste, of course," she replied.

"Butter is expensive as hell these days," he reminded.

"If you had a job, you wouldn't care," she replied.

He closed his mouth and went to read his newspaper again, but this rebuttal hurt his heart, and this was the first time such stabbing words came out of her mouth.

On the same evening, after some reading, Carrie went to bed in the front room.This is unusual.When Hurstwood decided to go to sleep, he did not light his lamp as a rule.But then he found that Carrie was not there.

"That's odd," he said. "Perhaps she's still sitting."

He didn't think much of it, and fell asleep.When he woke up early in the morning, she was not by his side.Strange to say, the matter passed like this, and nothing was expressed.

In the evening, when there was something more talkative, Carrie said:
"I reckon I'll sleep alone tonight. I've got a bit of a headache."

"All right," said Hurstwood.

On the third night, she slept in her bed in the front room, without explanation.

It was a terrible blow to Hurstwood, but he never mentioned it.

"Okay," he said to himself, frowning, "let her sleep alone."

(End of this chapter)