Chapter 8 Chapter 8 Hints of Winter: Envoy Called

In front of the various forces of the universe that dominate and dominate all things, an inexperienced person is like a weak grass in the wind. Human civilization is still in an intermediate state, and has almost got rid of animal nature. Because it is not completely dominated by instinct, But it is not human nature, because it has not yet fully accepted the guidance of reason. The tiger is not responsible for its own behavior, it is born to be dominated by the original life force, nurtured and protected by the original life force, because it has no thought. And man is far from his lair in the forest. Man has acquired an almost free will, and his natural instincts have become dull. But his free will has not yet developed enough to take the place of instinct, and provide him with perfect guidance. He Too smart to always be at the mercy of instinct and desire; but he is not strong enough to always overcome instinct and desire. When he was an animal, he was aligned with and governed by the life force. But when he As a man he has not yet fully learned how to align himself with the life force, to adapt himself to it and to control it. He vacillates in this intermediate stage... neither by instinctive passive alignment with the forces of nature, nor by Not smart enough to actively align with the natural forces and achieve harmony by free will. He is just a weak grass swaying in the wind, affected by various emotions. Sometimes he acts according to his will, and sometimes he acts according to instinct. If he relies on his will If he acts wrong, he relies on instinct to rescue him; if he fails to act on instinct, he relies on will to get back up again... In short, he is a capricious, unpredictable creature. Our only consolation We know that human beings will continue to evolve, and ideals will always be a reliable lighthouse, and human beings will not wander between good and evil forever. When the contradiction between free will and instinct is adjusted, when sufficient reason makes free will completely replace instinct The power of human beings will not continue to waver. The magnetic needle of reason will always point to the magnetic pole of truth in the distance.

In Carrie... In fact, how many people in the world are not like this?...Instinct and reason, desire and knowledge are constantly fighting, striving for dominance. So far she has been led by her desire Running is more passive than active. That night Minnie was perplexed and anxious about Carrie's disappearance, but not out of longing, grief, or friendship. When she found the note early next morning, she exclaimed, "My God, what's going on here?" "What's the matter?" Han Sheng asked. "Sister Carrie has moved out, and is living elsewhere." Han Sheng jumped up from the bed with unprecedented quickness, and looked at the note. But he said nothing, but smacked his tongue to express his opinion on the matter, just like people urging It's the sound a horse makes when it's advancing.

"Where do you think she's going?" Minnie asked emotionally. "I don't know," said a sneer in his eyes, "that she did it at last." Minnie shook her head in bewilderment. "Well," she said, "she doesn't know what she's doing." "Forget it," Han Sheng said after a while, spreading his hands, "what can you do?" It was not in the nature of a woman for Minnie to let it go, and she guessed at the possibilities of the situation. "Alas," she said at last, "poor Sister Carrie!" The above conversation happened at 5 o'clock in the morning. At the same time, the little soldier who had ventured into the city was sleeping alone in the new room, sleeping very restlessly.

If there is one thing about Carrie's new situation, it is that she sees possibilities in it. She is not a sensualist, eager to indulge in the world of feasting and entertainment. She tosses and turns in bed, arguing for her audacity. Uneasy, and glad to be freed from her old life. She wondered whether she would find work, and wondered what Drouet would do. No doubt, what the venerable gentleman was about to do, the Creator had arranged Well. He really couldn't help himself with his own behaviour. His reason hadn't quite reasoned enough to stop him. He was at the mercy of his instinctive desires, playing an old role in the pursuit of the opposite sex. He needed Carrie as much as he needed The same need for a good breakfast. Maybe he has the slightest qualm of conscience about what he does, and that's where he's evil and guilty. But you can be sure that whatever his qualms are, the qualms Very little. He came to see Carrie the next day, and she met him in her room. He was still so jolly and cheerful.

"Why," said he, "why are you so morose? Come on, let's have breakfast. You have other clothes to buy today." Carrie looked at him with her ambivalence and hesitation in her large eyes. "I wish I could find a job," she said. "You'll find work," said Drouet. "What's the use of worrying now? Settle down first, and look around town. I won't do you any harm." "I know you won't," she said, not quite sure. "Have you got your new shoes on? Put your feet out and let me see. My God, they're gorgeous. Now put on your coat."

Carrie complied. "Hey, I said, this dress fits perfectly, as if it were made to order, doesn't it?" He said, feeling the size of the waist, and then stepped back to look at the dress, feeling sincerely happy. "You now All that's missing is a new dress. Now let's go to breakfast." Carrie put on her hat. "Where are the gloves?" he asked. "Here," she said, taking gloves from a chest of drawers. "Well, let's go," he said. In this way, Carrie's initial doubts were swept away. It was like this every time we met. Drouet rarely stopped to see her. She sometimes walked alone, but most of the time he took her around. At Bill's in Carson Street, he gave her Bought a nice dress and a blouse. She used his money to buy some basic cosmetics. In the end, she looked like a different person. The mirror confirmed to her what she always thought of herself: she was really Beautiful, yes, absolutely beautiful! How pretty the hat is on her head, and aren't her eyes beautiful too? She bites her little red lips with her teeth, and is amazed and excited for the first time by her own charm. Duro Ah, this guy is really nice.

One evening they went to see "The Emperor of Japan," which was a very popular opera at the time. Before going to the play, they went to the Windsor Restaurant. There was a cold wind blowing outside, and from her window she could see a tinge of reddish evening glow in the western sky, while above her head the sky took on an azure blue that finally blended with the twilight. A long thin pink cloud floated in the air, like a fairy island far away on the sea. Across the road, bare tree branches swayed in the wind. The scenery reminded her of her hometown. She saw it from the front window of their house in December It is also such a familiar scene.

She stopped, twisting her little hands painfully. "What's the matter?" asked Drouet. "Well, I don't know," she answered, her lips quivering. Sensing that she was troubled, he put his arm around her shoulder and patted her arm. "Come on," he said softly, "you're all right." She turned and put on her coat. "Better wear your fur scarf tonight." They walked north on Warbas Street toward Adam Street, then turned west. The lights in the shops cast a golden glow down the street. Arc lights flickered overhead. The light came out. A gust of cold wind lashed passers-by like a whip. Those who had just got off work at 6 o'clock crowded and walked home. The collars of their light coats were turned up to cover their ears, and their hats were pulled down. Young The female shop assistants walked past in twos and threes, talking and laughing as they walked. They were all people full of youthful blood.

Suddenly a pair of eyes met Carrie's, and recognized her. It came from a group of ragged girls. Their clothes were faded and baggy and ill-fitting, their coats were old, and their overall attire looked poor. Carrie recognized the look and the girl. She was one of the women who worked the machinery in the shoe factory. The woman saw her, and was not sure it was her, so she looked back. Carrie felt as if there was a huge wave Rolled between them. The days of working at the machinery in old clothes and rags came back before her eyes again. She was really shocked. Drouet didn't notice it at first, until Carrie bumped into a passer-by. Only then did he notice the change in Carrie's expression.

"You must be thinking," he said. They dined together, and then went to the theatre. Carrie liked the play very much. She was dazzled by the colorful and beautifully moved scenes, and she couldn't help yearning for position and power, and imagined foreign scenery and high-spirited characters. At the end, she was stunned by the sound of carriages and a large group of gorgeously dressed ladies and ladies. "Wait a moment," said Drouet. He stopped her in the foyer of the theatre, where ladies and gentlemen were moving about, courting each other, their skirts rustling, their heads in lace hats. It was lighting frequently, revealing white teeth in its open mouth.

"Let's see for a while." "Car sixty-seven," the man calling the cab was raising his voice in a melodious voice, "sixty-seven!" "Pretty, isn't it?" said Carrie. "Very beautiful!" said Drouet. Like her, affected by the magnificence and joy of the scene before him, he squeezed her arm passionately. Once she raised her eyes, her smiling lips were full of well-proportioned white teeth. She was shining, and her eyes were shining. As they went out, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You look very lovely." The lady gets in the car. "You follow me, and we shall hail a cab," said Drouet, laughing. Carrie hardly heard him. The whirlwind picture of life filled her mind. The carriage stopped at the door of a restaurant, and they went in for supper. It was getting late, and the idea passed only vaguely in Carrie's mind, who was now free from the house rules. Had she ever had Habits come into play on such occasions when time forms them. Habits are such a strange thing that they can drive a non-religious man out of bed to say a prayer that is more a matter of habit than religious zeal. A person who is dominated by habit, once he neglects the usual things, he will feel a certain uneasiness in his heart, a kind of trouble and unhappiness caused by being out of the daily track, so he imagines that this is his conscience blaming him, imagines that he listens to When the voice of conscience is gently urging him to get on the right track. If he deviates too much from the track, the force of habit will be so strong that the person who does not use his brain and only follows the habit will return to the old habit and follow the routine. Doing things. "Well, God bless you," is the kind of person who will say, "I've finally done my duty and done what I have to do." When in fact he's just doing things again in an old, ingrained habit. Carrie had not received much tutoring at home, and had not established good principles of life. If so, she must be suffering from the reproach of conscience now. They had a hot supper. It changed like a lantern The scene, the intangible goodness of Drouet, and the delicacy of the food, the luxury restaurant. Under the influence of these factors, Carrie's vigilance relaxed, and she listened and watched with confidence. Once again the hypnotic charm of the city overwhelmed She was deceived. "Well," said Drouet at last, "we must go." They had been passing the time slowly while they ate. Their eyes met now and then. Carrie could not feel that there was something in his eyes that made her heart beat. He liked to touch hers when he spoke, as if to As if to impress her. Now when he said go, he touched her hand again. They stood up and went out into the street. There were few pedestrians in the downtown area, only a few wanderers whistling, a few streetcars driving at night, and a few casinos were still open and their lights were on. They walked slowly, out of Walters Street, Drouet babbling on with amusing anecdotes, taking Carrie's arm, and holding it tightly as he spoke. Every little while, saying After some wisecrack, he lowered his head and met her eyes. At last they came to the edge of the steps. Carrie stood on a step, so that her head was as high as his. He took her hand, tenderly He held her tightly, and he gazed at her for a long time, while she looked around thoughtfully, with warmth in her heart. At about the same hour, after a long night of worrying, Minnie was sleeping soundly. She was asleep on her side, with her elbows uncomfortably pressed under her body. The compressed muscles stimulated the nerves, and the drowsiness was deepening. A vague vision came to her mind. She dreamed that she and Carrie were standing beside some old mine shaft. She could see high chutes and heaps of dredged earth and coal. The two of them They stretched their necks and looked down a deep shaft. They could see some wet rocks in the deep place below. The wall of the well at that place could not be seen clearly, leaving only some shadows. There was a The old basket that was used to carry people up and down was hung there by an old, worn rope. "Let's go down and see," said Carrie. "No, don't go down," said Minnie. "Come, come down," said Carrie. She began to pull the basket, drew it over, and against Minnie's objection, stepped into it and was already down. "Carrie!" she cried, "Carrie, come back!" But Carrie was already down so deep that the shadows engulfed her completely. She shakes her arms. Now the mysterious phantom disappeared strangely. She found herself at the edge of a body of water she had never been before. They were standing on something protruding into the water, a plank perhaps, Land in the water, or something else. Carrie was standing on top of the thing. They looked around, and now the thing was beginning to sink, and Minnie could hear the murmur of the water coming up. "Come here, Carrie!" she cried, but Carrie went on. She seemed to be receding, and her cries were hardly reaching her ears. "Carrie," she cried, "Carrie!" but her own voice sounded so far away that there was nothing left but a vast expanse of water that swallowed everything up. She went away with a sense of loss, with an indescribable sorrow. It was something she had never experienced in her life. Thus, phantasms of impressions flitted across her weary brain, and strange dreams emerged and became a blur, hallucination after hallucination. The last dream made her cry out, as Carrie was emerging from a cup of doubt. vomited, and her fingers did not catch her, and she saw her fall. "Minnie! What's the matter? Hey, wake up." Han Sheng was woken up, and he shook her shoulder and shouted. "What... what is it?" Minnie asked sleepily. "Wake up," he said, "turn over and go back to sleep. You are talking in your sleep." A week or so later, Drouet entered Fermot's, dressed and handsome. "How do you do, Charlie," said Hurstwood, poking his head from between his small letters. Drouet walked over and looked in at the manager sitting at the table. "When are you going out on business again?" he asked. "Soon," replied Drouet. "After you came back this time, I seldom saw you," said Hurstwood. "Oh, I'm always busy," said Drouet. They chatted casually for a few minutes. "Well," said Drouet, as if suddenly thinking of something, "I should like to ask you to come out some evening." "Where are we going to play?" "To my house, of course," said Drouet, smiling. Hurstwood raised his head inquiringly, with a faint smile on his lips. He studied Drouet's face carefully with shrewd eyes, and said with gentlemanly grace: "Of course, I'm glad to go." "We can have fun playing yuca poker." "May I bring a bottle of Syco?" said Hurstwood. "Of course," said Drouet. "I want to introduce you to someone."