Chapter 42 Chapter 42 Harmony of Spring: People go to the empty building

However, those who think that Hurstwood's trip to Brooklyn was a misjudgment will also realize the negative impact that the fact that he tried and failed has had on him. To rough behavior. In this case, so quickly Quit it, it's so boring. He just doesn't want to work. She is now playing one of a group of oriental beauties. In the second act of the comic opera, the courtiers parade these beauties past the new king, showing off his harem babes. No lines were assigned, but on the night Hurstwood slept in the attic of the tram yard, the comedian in the leading role, trying to pull off a stunt, said loudly:

"Hey, who are you?" There was a burst of laughter. It just so happened that it was Carrie who bowed before him at this moment. As far as he was concerned, it was the same to everyone. He did not expect to hear an answer, and he would be scolded if he answered clumsily. But Carrie's Experience and self-confidence gave her courage, and she saluted sweetly again, and replied: "I am your faithful concubine." It was a commonplace remark, but the way she said it captivated the audience, who laughed happily at the feigned sinister king who stood majestically before the young woman. The comedian heard the laughter and liked it too sentence.

"I thought your name was Smith," he replied, trying to get a last laugh. After saying this, Carrie was almost trembling with fear at her audacity. All members of the troupe had been warned that any addition of lines or actions without permission would be punished with a fine or worse. She did not know what to do. As she stood in her place at the side of the stage, waiting for her next appearance, the comedian walked past her, recognized her and stopped. "You'll save that line for the rest of the day," he said, seeing that she looked very clever. "But don't add anything to it."

"Thank you," said Carrie respectfully, and when he was gone she found herself shaking violently. "Oh, lucky you," said another member of the chorus, "none of us ever got a line." There was no doubting the importance of the matter. Everyone in the troupe was aware that she had begun to make a difference. Carrie was secretly glad that the line was again applauded the next night. She came home very happy , knowing that the matter would soon come to a good conclusion. But seeing Hurstwood at home, her pleasant thoughts were driven away. They were replaced by a strong desire to put an end to this painful situation. The second God, she asked him about his job search.

"They don't want to have a car, unless they have police protection. They don't want anyone now, and they won't until next week." The next week came, but Carrie saw no change in Hurstwood. He seemed more insensitive than before. He watched Carrie go out to rehearsals every morning and so on, and he was extremely calm. He just read the papers, read A few times he found himself with his eyes fixed on a piece of news while his mind was on something else. The first time he felt this distraction visibly, he was thinking back to an orgy he had once attended at a riding club. He was a member of this club at the time. Sitting there, with his head bowed, he gradually thought he heard voices and clinking glasses from the past.

"You're very good, Hurstwood," said his friend Walker, who was standing there again in all his splendor, smiling and kindly, having just told a nice story, and now being applauded. Suddenly he looked up and saw that the room was as quiet as a ghost. He heard the clear ticking of the clock, and he suspected that he was dozing off just now. However, the newspaper was still standing upright in his hand. The news was right in front of his eyes, so he dismissed the idea that he just dozed off. But it was still very strange. When it happened again, it seemed not so strange. The butchers, grocers, bakers and coal shop owners... not the ones he was dealing with, but the ones who had given him the most credit... came calling Yes. He dealt with all these people kindly, and became adept at making excuses. Finally, he got bold enough to either pretend he wasn't home, or wave them away.

"You can't get oil out of a stone," he said, "if I had money, I'd pay them." Carrie was gaining popularity. Her friend, Miss Osborne, who played the little soldier, had become something of a servant to her. Little Osborne could do nothing of her own. She was aware of it like a kitten, and instinctively decided to hold on to Carrie with her soft little paws. "Oh, you'll be popular," she always praised Carrie, "you're wonderful." Carrie was timid, but powerful. The confidence of others made her feel as if she would be popular, and since she was sure, she became bolder. She was old and poor, This is all in her favor. She will no longer be confused by a man's insignificant words. She has learned that men can change and fail. Flattery has no effect on her. To impress her, there must be a superior person The advantage...the advantage of goodwill...the advantage of a genius like Ames.

"I don't like the male actors in our troupe," she told Laura one day, "they're all too pompous." "Don't you think Mr. Buckley is very nice?" asked Laura, who had once or twice been gifted with a smile by the man. "Oh, he's all right," answered Carrie, "but he's not sincere. He's too much of an affectation." Laura tried to influence Carrie for the first time in the following way. "Do you pay rent where you live?" "Of course it will," answered Carrie. "Why do you ask that?" "I know a place where you can get the nicest room with a bathroom for cheap. It's too big for me to live alone, and it's just right for two people to share. It's only six dollars a week for two people."

"Where is it?" said Carrie. "Seventeenth Street." "But I don't know if I want to live somewhere else," said Carrie, already turning over the three dollars in rent. She was thinking that if she had only to support herself, she would be able to She kept her 17 yuan for her own use. The matter did not come to fruition until Hurstwood's venture back from Brooklyn and Carrie's line was successful. At this point, she began to feel that she must be relieved. She wanted to leave Hurstwood so that he could go on his own. struggle. But his character had become so eccentric that she was afraid he might not let her leave him. He might go to the theater and find her and just go after her like that. She didn't quite believe he would, but He might. She knew that if he brought himself into the spotlight, however it might be, it would embarrass her. It distressed her greatly.

There was a better part for her to play, and this made things worse. The part was that of a virtuous lover, and the actress who played it offered to resign, and Carrie was chosen to fill the vacancy. "How much will you get?" asked Miss Osborne, hearing the good news. "I didn't ask," said Carrie. "Then go ask. Good God, you'll get nothing if you don't ask. Tell 'em you'll get forty dollars anyway." "Oh, no," said Carrie. "Come on!" cried Laura. "Ask them anyway." Carrie heeded this advice, but waited until the manager told her what she would have to wear for the part.

"How much can I get?" she asked. "Thirty-five dollars," he replied. Carrie was so pleasantly surprised that she never thought of mentioning the forty dollars. She was so wild with joy that she was on the verge of hugging Laura. Laura clung to her when she heard the news. "You should take more than that," said Laura, "especially if you have to bring your own clothes." Carrie was startled at the thought. Where was the money to be obtained? She had no savings to meet such an urgent need, and the rent was drawing near again. "I'm not paying rent," she said, remembering her own urgency. "I don't need this apartment. I won't give my money this time. I'm moving." Miss Osborne's renewed entreaty came at the right time, this time with more urgency than before. "Come and live with me, will you?" she begged, "and we'll get the loveliest room. And it'll cost you next to nothing." "I'd love to," said Carrie frankly. "Oh, come on then," said Laura. "We shall be very happy." Carrie considered it for a while. "I think I'll move," she said, and added, "I'll have to see first, though." Having thus made up her mind, she soon found an excuse for Hurstwood's lethargy, as the day of rent approached and the purchase of the outfit imminent. He talked less and was more depressed than before. When the day for paying the rent drew near, a thought came into his mind. The creditors were pressing for money, and it was impossible to delay any further, so the idea came to him. Twenty-eight dollars is too much rent." She's hard enough," he thought, "we can find a place cheaper." After thinking about it, he spoke at the breakfast table. "Do you think our rent is too high here?" he asked. "I think it's too expensive," said Carrie, not understanding what he meant. "I think we can find a smaller place," he suggested; "we don't need four houses." It was a clear sign of his determination to be with her, and she was uneasy about it. If he had been watching carefully, he would have seen it in her facial expression. He didn't think it was a big deal to ask her to give in. of. "Oh, I don't know that," she answered, becoming cautious. "There must be places around here where two rooms can be rented, and that will be enough for us." She was disgusted. "Impossible!" she thought. Who would pay for the move? Wouldn't even think of living in two houses with him! She decided to spend her money on outfits as soon as possible, Just before something terrible happened. On this very day, she bought her outfit. Having done so, there was no other choice. "Lola," she said, when she called on her friend, "I think I'm moving here." "Oh, that's great!" exclaimed the latter. "Can we have it right away?" she asked, referring to the house. "Of course," cried Laura. They went to see the house. Carrie saved ten dollars from her own expenses, enough to pay the rent and to have enough to eat. Her salary did not begin to increase until seventeen days later, and it took seventeen days for her to come to the house. hands. She and her friend each paid half of the rent of the six dollars. "Right now, I only have enough money for this weekend," she confessed. "Oh, I've got some," said Laura. "I've got twenty-five dollars if you want to use it." "No," said Carrie. "I think I can handle it." They decided to move on Friday, which was two days later. Now that the matter was settled, Carrie felt uneasy. She felt very much like a criminal in the matter. Looking at Hurstwood every day, she found that he Although his attitude is disgusting, there is something pitiful about it. On the night when she made up her mind to leave, she looked at him and found that he no longer looked so incompetent and useless at this time, but was just crushed and defeated by bad luck. His eyes were dull, full of His face was wrinkled and his hands were weak. She thought his hair was graying too. When she looked at him, he was unaware of his doom, sitting in the rocking chair and looking at the paper. She knew that all this was about to end, but she became a little worried. "Will you go out and get some canned peaches?" she asked Hurstwood, putting down a two-dollar bill. "Of course," he said, looking at the money in surprise. "See if you can get some good asparagus," she added, "for my supper." Hurstwood got up, took the money, and hastily put on his overcoat and hat. Carrie noticed that both of his clothes were worn and looked shabby. This had seemed commonplace before, but now But it struck her as particularly shocking. Maybe he really couldn't help it. He did a good job in Chicago. She recalled his handsome appearance in the days when he met her in the park. At that time, he was so beautiful. Lively. Clean. Is it all his fault? He came back and put down the change with the food. "You better take it," she said, "we have other things to buy." "No," he said, with a touch of self-respect, "you take it." "Oh, just take it," she answered, rather discouraged. "There are other things to buy." He was amazed at this, not knowing that he had become a wretch in her eyes. She tried to keep her voice from trembling. To tell the truth, that was Carrie's attitude toward everything. She sometimes thought of leaving Drouet and treating him so badly, and regretted it. She hoped that she would never see him again, but she felt sorry for her She was ashamed of his behaviour. Not that she had any other choice in the final parting. When Hurstwood said he was hurt, she went to him voluntarily out of sympathy. There had been some cruelty in this direction, but she could not logically figure out what it was, so she decided by feeling that she would never understand what Hurstwood was doing, but would only learn from it. Her behavior showed how hard-hearted she was in her decisions. She was ashamed of it. It wasn't that she still had feelings for him. She just didn't want to make anyone who had been kind to her feel bad. She did not realize what she was doing by allowing these feelings to haunt her thus. Hurstwood noticed her kindness, and thought of her better. "Carrie was kind, anyway." He said. think. That afternoon, when she went to Miss Osborne's place, she saw the lady singing and packing her things. "Why don't you move with me today?" she asked. "Oh, I can't," said Carrie. "I'll be there on Friday. Would you like to lend me that twenty-five dollars you said?" "Oh, of course I would," said Laura, and went to get her purse. "I want to buy something else," said Carrie. "Oh, that's all right," answered the little girl kindly, glad to be of help. Hurstwood had had nothing to do but run to the grocery store and the newsstand for days, and now he was tired of being indoors...it's been two days...but the cold .The gloomy weather kept him from going out again. It was sunny and warm on Friday. It was a lovely day that heralds the coming of spring. Such a day in the cold winter shows that the warmth and beauty have not abandoned the earth. The blue sky supported the golden sun, and sprinkled a crystal-like bright and warm light. The sparrows could be heard, and it was obvious that it was calm outside. Carrie opened the front window, and a southerly wind blew in her face. "It's a nice day outside today," she said. "Is it?" said Hurstwood. Immediately after breakfast he changed into other clothes. "Are you coming back for lunch?" asked Carrie nervously. "No," he said. He went out into the street, walked north on Seventh Avenue, and chose the Harlem River as his destination at random. He had seen some boats on the river when he visited the brewery. He wanted to see How is the area developing? After passing Fifty-ninth Street, he walked along the west side of Central Park to Seventy-eighth Street. At this time, he remembered the place where they used to live, and turned to look at the large tall buildings that had been built here. Much changed. Those large vacant lots had been filled with houses. He turned back and walked along the park to 110th Street, then turned into Seventh Avenue, and reached the beautiful river at one o'clock. side. He gazed at the river in front of him, winding its way between the undulating banks on the right and the wooded uplands on the left, glistening in the bright sun. The spring-like breath here awakened him , made him feel the loveliness of the river. So he stood for a while with his hands behind his back, looking at the river. Then he turned and walked along the river towards the East End, looking casually for the boats he had seen before. He found that the day was coming to an end, and the night might turn cold, and it was already four o'clock when he remembered to go back. At this time, he was hungry, and wanted to sit in a warm room and have a good meal. When he got back to the flat at five-thirty, it was still dark. He knew Carrie was not in, not only because there was no light through the transom on the door, but because the evening paper was jammed between the outside handle and the door. He He unlocked the door with the key and went in. It was dark inside. Lighting the gas, he sat down to wait a little while. Even if Carrie came back now, it would be late for dinner. He read the paper and saw 6 One o'clock. Then I got up and went to get myself something to eat. When he got up, he found that there seemed to be something strange in the room. What's the matter? He looked around and felt that something was missing. Then, he saw an envelope placed near where he was sitting. The envelope itself was The problem is explained, and there is almost no need for him to do anything more. He reached for the envelope. As he reached for it, he shivered all over. The envelope rustled loudly in his hand. The soft green bill was caught in the letter. "Dear George," he read the letter, crunching the note with one hand. "I'm going. I'm not coming back. Don't try to rent the flat any more. I can't afford it. If I could I'd love to help you if I got it, but I can't live on for the two of us, and I have to pay the rent. I'm going to buy clothes with the little money I earn. I keep 20 bucks. That's all I have now Lots of furniture at your disposal, I don't want it, Carrie." He put the letter down, and looked about him in silence. Now he knew what was missing. It was a little clock which was only a decoration, which belonged to her. It was no longer on the mantelpiece. He went into the front room. His Bedroom and drawing room, gaslighting as they went. The silver and tinsel knickknacks were gone from the chest of drawers. The lace tablecloth was gone from the table. He opened the wardrobe...her clothes Gone. He opened the drawer... Her stuff was gone. Her suitcase was missing from the same place. Go back to his own room and look. His own old clothes hanging there are still there. In the original place. Other things are not missing. He went into the living room and stood for a moment, staring blankly at the floor. The silence was beginning to be suffocating. The small apartment looked strangely deserted. He completely forgot that he was hungry, that he had forgotten that When it was time to eat dinner, it seemed that it was already late at night. He suddenly found himself still holding the bills. It was twenty dollars, just as she had said. Then he came back and kept the gas lamps on, and the apartment seemed empty. "I'm getting out of here," he said to himself. At this moment, thinking of his own situation, a feeling of infinite desolation suddenly hit his heart. "Leave me!" he muttered, and repeated. "Leave me!" How comfortable this place used to be, how many warm days he had spent here, but now it was a thing of the past. He was facing something colder, more bleak. He sank into the rocking chair, Hands on chin... no thought, only feeling holding him firmly. Then, a feeling of bereavement and self-pity took hold of him. "There's no need for her to go," said he; "I'll find something to do." He sat for a long time without rocking, and then added loudly and clearly: "I tried, didn't I?" It was midnight, and he was still rocking in the rocking chair, staring at the floor in a daze.