Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen Concentric Knot: Confused and Confused

Less than two days had elapsed between Carrie and Hurstwood's meeting in the drawing room of Auden's apartment, and Hurstwood came to see her again. He missed her almost all the time. To a certain extent, her tolerant attitude also aroused his love love. He felt that he must have her, and have her soon. His interest in her, which could be described as obsessive, was not purely sexual. It was an emotion which had been withering in the dry and barren soil for many years, and then sprouted new shoots and blossomed. Perhaps it was because Carrie was different. As for the women he had admired before: she was better than them. He had not been in love since that love marriage. Since then, time and experience have made him realize how hasty and wrong he was in choosing a mate. Whenever he thought of this, he secretly thought that if he could start over, he would never marry such a woman. At the same time, his association with women in general has greatly reduced his respect for women. .Countless experiences have given him a mocking and disdainful attitude toward them. Almost all the women he has ever known are of the same type: selfish, ignorant, gaudy. His friends' wives also make him look down. He His own wife had developed a cold and vulgar character which was never pleasing. He knew a good deal about the base pleasures of the beastly men of the lower classes. Hardened. He eyed most of the women suspiciously... He only noticed their beauty and the effect of their dress, and looked at them with a sharp and flirtatious eye. But his heart was not completely numb. , so when he found a good woman, he was very respectful. Personally, he didn't bother to analyze such a wonderful thing as a holy woman. In front of her, he just took off his hat and shut up the frivolous Mouth . . . as the Irish proprietor of a good entertainment establishment on the Rue de Bawolle humbly bows his head before the nuns of the Catholic Mercy Order, and offers his charitable donation with pious hands willingly. But he doesn't want to go Think about why he did this.

A man in his position, after experiencing a series of boring or heart-hardening things, once he meets a young, innocent, innocent woman, he may keep her with her out of consideration of the difference between the two parties. but he may also be fascinated by the serendipity, be ecstatic at his own discovery, and be attracted to them. Such people approach them in a devious way, and they do not and do not know how to please such a person. Girl, unless they find out that innocent girl has fallen into a trap. If a fly unfortunately falls into a spider's web, the spider will go up and negotiate terms. Even if they only touch the very edge of a trap with gangsters and gangsters, they will come forward and play tricks of seduction.

Hurstwood had been invited by Drouet to see his new wife, who he supposed was just another embroidered pillow; handsome, brightly dressed, and full of straw. He entered expecting only He had a relaxing evening of fun, and then forgot about this new acquaintance. To his surprise, he met a young and beautiful woman who attracted his attention. In Carrie's tender eyes, he could not see He saw at once that he had made a mistake. He saw that the unfortunate maiden had been thrust before him by some difficulty, which His interest was aroused. His sympathy was tinged, but it was also mingled with personal intentions. He wanted to get Carrie, who believed that her fate would be worse if she were united with him. Drouet was better together. Now he was more jealous of the salesman than he had been of anyone in his life.

Carrie, of course, was better than this fellow Drouet, for she was higher in spirit than he was. She was fresh from the country, and had a country air about her, and a country light in her eyes. There was no cunning in her. and greed. She has inherited a little bit of these bad habits in her nature, but it is only a few remnants. She is full of wonder and desire now, and certainly not greedy thoughts. She looks around the labyrinth of the city. Cityscape. Still feeling dazed. Hurstwood saw in her the budding youth, and he wanted to pluck her like fresh fruit from a tree. In her presence, he felt refreshed, as if a person from The scorching sun of summer came down into the fresh air of early spring.

Since their last meeting, Carrie was alone, with no one to consult with. Her mind went through one way and another, but could not come up with a result. At last she got tired of thinking and put it aside. She felt that she owed her money. A favor from Drouet. Drouet helped her out of her troubles and troubles as if only yesterday. She had the best affection for him in every way, and she acknowledged his handsomeness and generosity. In his absence, She didn't even think about his egotism. But she felt that there was no binding force between them that restricted her from being with other people. In fact, the idea of ​​​​being with Drouet for life was baseless, even Drouet. Eben had no such intentions either.

Truth be told, there's no way this likable salesman could have any lasting relationship. He's carefree and moody, he lives happily ever after, he thinks everyone's crazy about him, lovers everywhere want him back, things will It never changes, for his amusement. He doesn't feel very sad if an old acquaintance is no longer seen or an old friend refuses to receive him. He is young and smooth. He will keep it when he dies young heart. About Hurstwood, his mind was full of thoughts and feelings about Carrie. He had no definite intentions for Carrie, but he was determined to make her confess her love for him. From her downcast eyes, dodging In his eyes and wandering demeanor, he thinks he has seen the signs of early love. He wants to stand beside her and hold her hand...he wants to know what will happen to her next... ..what will she show her feelings next. He hasn't felt so much anxiety and so much passion in years. Emotionally he's young again...a knight in love .

Because of his position, it is very convenient for him to go out at night. Generally speaking, he is very devoted to his duties. Therefore, he is very trusted by the boss in terms of time management. He has no problem leaving for a while when he wants, and the shop knows He did an excellent job as a manager. His poise, mellow attitude and flamboyance gave the place an air of sophistication which is vital to the success of the hotel. Shrewd in stocking up. Bartenders and waiters can change crop after crop, individual changes or batches, but as long as he's around, regular customers hardly notice any change, and he keeps the place fresh. Therefore, in terms of time arrangement, he often goes out in the afternoon and sometimes in the evening according to his personal needs, but he always returns to the store between eleven and twelve o'clock in the evening to supervise the last day of the day. Two hours of business, taking care of all kinds of chores when closing.

"George, you must wait until everything is settled and all the employees are gone before you go," Moy had said to him. Since then, during his long tenure, he has not once overlooked this point. Request. The two bosses have not been in the store after 5:00 pm for many years. But their manager still faithfully enforces this rule, as if they will often visit the store to inspect. This Friday afternoon, not two days after his last visit, he resolved to see Carrie. He could wait no longer. "Ivens," he said to the barman, "if anyone calls for me, say I'll be back at four or five o'clock."

He hurried to Madison Avenue, got into a stagecoach, and in half an hour arrived at Auden Square. Carrie was going for a walk. She had put on a pale gray woolen dress and a smart double-breasted jacket. Her hat and gloves had been taken out, and a white lace cravat was being tied around her neck. At this moment the apartment The maid came up to announce Hurstwood's visit. Carrie was slightly taken aback, but she told the maid to come down and said she would come down at once, and hastened to dress. Carrie herself did not know whether she was happy or sorry for the visit of the imposing manager. She suddenly felt flustered, and her cheeks burned slightly. But it was from nervousness, not from fear or love. She did not think that they might talk. Something, she felt only that she must be careful, for Hurstwood had an inexplicable attraction for her. She adjusted her cravat with her fingers and went downstairs.

The devoted manager was also a little nervous, because he was fully aware of his promises, and he felt that this time he must take decisive action. But when the matter came to an end, when he heard Carrie's footsteps on the stairs, He was a little timid again. His resolution was not so great as before, for after all he didn't know what she might think. But when she came into the room, her appearance gave him courage. She looked so innocent and lovely, enough to give courage to any lover. She could see that she was nervous, and his nervousness disappeared. "How are you?" he said calmly, "the weather is so fine this afternoon that I can't help but want to go out for a walk."

"Yes," said Carrie, coming up to him, "I was going to go for a walk, too." "Oh, is it?" said he, "and how about you take your hat and we go for a walk?" They crossed the park and walked west along Washington Street. It was a beautiful gravel road with wide wooden houses and sidewalks at some distance. There were a lot of rich people on the West End here, so Hurstwood He couldn't help worrying about attracting people's attention. But they hadn't passed a few streets when they saw a sign for a cab hire on a side road, which solved his problem: he wanted to take her to the new boulevard in a carriage. The boulevard was then more or less a country road. The stretch of road he wanted to show her was beyond the West End, where there were hardly any houses. It connected Douglas Park with Washington Park (that is, South Park), Quite a well-planned road. Go due south across an open meadow for about five miles, then turn due east across meadows for the same distance. Not a single house in sight for most of the road , you can talk with confidence without being afraid of being disturbed. In the stable he picked out a docile horse, and they were soon out of the range where they might be seen or heard. "Can you drive a carriage?" he said after a while. "I haven't tried," replied Carrie. He put the reins in her hand, folded his arms and sat aside. "You see, it's not difficult," he said with a smile. "The horse is very docile, and of course it's easy," said Carrie. "With a little practice, you'll be as good a driver as anyone else," he added encouragingly. He was always looking for an opportunity to bring the conversation to the point. Once or twice he kept silent, hoping that in the silence her thoughts would be infected by him. But she continued to talk easily on the original topic. Without much effort, however, His silence had an effect, and his thoughts began to affect her emotions. He stared forward for a long time, not looking at anything in particular, as if he was thinking of something that had nothing to do with her. But his mind was obvious. Yes. She was well aware that the defining moment of their relationship was coming. "You know what?" he said, "the few nights I spent with you were the happiest I've been in years." "Really?" she said, pretending to be indifferent. But his tone convinced her that he was telling the truth, and she couldn't help being excited. "I meant to tell you that night," he added, "but somehow missed the opportunity." Carrie listened intently, making no attempt to answer, and could think of nothing worth saying. Although she had been vaguely distressed since the last meeting, wondering if it was right, she was now fascinated by him again. up. "I came here today," he went on gravely, "to tell you how I feel about you, and I wonder if you will listen to me." Hurstwood was indeed a Romantic in his nature. He had passionate emotions, often poetic ones. Driven by desire, as at this moment, his eloquence increased greatly. His emotion and voice seemed to carry This is the essence of language's moving power. "You must have known," he said, laying his hand on her arm. He remained strangely silent as he considered what to say, "I am in love with you." Carrie did not move at this, for she was fascinated by the atmosphere the man had created. In order to express his feelings, he needed a churchlike solemnity, and she let this solemnity prevail, her eyes still Looking at the open and flat scenery before him. After two minutes, Hurstwood repeated his words. "You shouldn't have said that," she said feebly. Her words were not convincing, she said it only because she had a vague idea of ​​what she should say. He ignored her words. "Carrie," he called her by her nickname in an intimate familiar tone, "I want you to love me. You can't imagine how much I need someone to give me a little love. I'm really alone. I don't have any joy in my life." and joy, nothing but work and care for the unrelated." When he said this, he really thought he was in a very miserable position. Hurstwood had a power of looking at himself objectively as a spectator, and he could see as many aspects of his life as he wanted to see. When he spoke, there was a peculiar quivering and vibrating in his voice from tension, which aroused sympathy in his companion. "Why, it seems to me," she said, looking at him with her large eyes full of sympathy and emotion, "that you ought to be very happy. You have had such a rich life." "That's the reason," his voice became soft and deep, "that I see a little too much." It was no small matter to Carrie that a man of such power should say these things to her. She could not help feeling the strangeness of her position. What was the matter? Could it be that in such a short time she It was as if a garment had fallen from her and put on a mysterious urban garb? Before her eyes was one of the greatest urban mysteries: this rich and powerful man sitting beside her , pleading with her. See, his days are light and easy, he is powerful, high, and well-dressed, and yet he pleads with her, and she cannot form a right and just idea of ​​the matter, so She did not bother to think about it any more. She bathed herself in the warmth of his affections, as one who comes to a fire in the cold feels grateful. Hurstwood's enthusiasm Burning hotly, under the influence of his passion, the scruples of his lady companion melted like wax. "You think I'm happy," he said, "so I shouldn't complain, should I? If you're like me, you have to deal with people who don't care about you all day, if you're like me, day after day If you were to go somewhere indifferent and pompous, and find no one whose sympathy you could count on, or whom you could chat pleasantly with, you might be unhappy, too." His words struck at the sympathetic chords of her heart, and made her think of her own situation. She knew what it was to deal with indifferent people, and what it was to be alone among those indifferent crowds. She had not Is that so? Is she not still alone? Of all the people she has known, who can she turn to for sympathy? There is no one. She is alone there brooding and wondering. "If I had you loving me," went on Hurstwood, "I would be content. If only I could be with you and have you. As a matter of fact, I'm just wandering about now and getting no satisfaction at all, It's hard to pass the time. Before I saw you, I was just dawdling and getting by. Since I saw you, . . . you know, I've been thinking about you." Carrie began to think, as she had imagined, that she had at last found someone who needed her help. She really felt sorry for the sad and lonely man. Come to think of it, he was so privileged that It was so dull without her. To think he had to plead with her so much, and she felt so alone. Isn't it all too bad? "I'm not a very bad person," he said apologetically, as if he needed to explain something to her on this point, "you don't think I must be doing all kinds of bad things by hanging around. ?I'm a bit reckless, but I can easily change. I need you to give me a hand so that my life will have some meaning." Carrie looked at him tenderly, hoping to influence this lost lamb with her virtues. How could such a great man need others to save him? What mistakes would he need her to correct? Everything about him was so wonderful, his Mistakes must be trivial. They are at best the innocuous mistakes of rich men, and men have always been magnanimous about these gilded mistakes. He spoke of himself so pitifully that she was deeply moved. "Is that true?" she mused. He put one arm around her waist, and she couldn't bear to break free. He took her fingers with the other. A soft spring breeze blew merrily down the road, sweeping up the autumn that had fallen the previous year. The yellow leaves and dead branches of the horses. There is no one to drive the horses, and they walk leisurely forward by themselves. "Tell me," he said softly, "that you love me." She lowered her eyes shyly. "Admit it, dear," he said affectionately, "you love me, don't you?" She didn't answer, but he felt he had won. "Tell me," he said in a round voice. He drew her so close that their lips were almost joined. He took her hand warmly, and then let it go to caress her cheek. "You love me, don't you?" he said, pressing his lips to hers. In answer, her lips kissed him back. "Now," said he cheerfully, his pretty eyes sparkling with excitement, "you are my lover now, aren't you?" As a further confirmation, she rested her head tenderly on his shoulder.