SISTER CARRIE. Theodore Dreiser

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СКАЧАТЬ you had lunch yet? Of course you haven’t. Let’s go in here,” and Drouet turned into one of the very nicely furnished restaurants off State Street, in Monroe.

      “I mustn’t take the money,” said Carrie, after they were settled in a cosey corner, and Drouet had ordered the lunch. “I can’t wear those things out there. They — they wouldn’t know where I got them.”

      “What do you want to do,” he smiled, “go without them?”

      “I think I’ll go home,” she said, wearily.

      “Oh, come,” he said, “you’ve been thinking it over too long. I’ll tell you what you do. You say you can’t wear them out there. Why don’t you rent a furnished room and leave them in that for a week?”

      Carrie shook her head. Like all women, she was there to object and be convinced. It was for him to brush the doubts away and clear the path if he could. “Why are you going home?” he asked.

      “Oh, I can’t get anything here.”

      They won’t keep you?” he remarked, intuitively.

      “They can’t,” said Carrie.

      “I’ll tell you what you do,” he said. “You come with me. I’ll take care of you.”

      Carrie heard this passively. The peculiar state which she was in made it sound like the welcome breath of an open door. Drouet seemed of her own spirit and pleasing. He was clean, handsome, well-dressed, and sympathetic. His voice was the voice of a friend.

      “What can you do back at Columbia City?” he went on, rousing by the words in Carrie’s mind a picture of the dull world she had left. “There isn’t anything down there. Chicago’s the place. You can get a nice room here and some clothes, and then you can do something.”

      Carrie looked out through the window into the busy street. There it was, the admirable, great city, so fine when you are not poor. An elegant coach, with a prancing pair of bays, passed by, carrying in its upholstered depths a young lady.

      “What will you have if you go back?” asked Drouet. There was no subtle undercurrent to the question. He imagined that she would have nothing at all of the things he thought worth while.

      Carrie sat still, looking out. She was wondering what she could do. They would be expecting her to go home this week.

      Drouet turned to the subject of the clothes she was going to buy.

      “Why not get yourself a nice little jacket? You’ve got to have it. I’ll loan you the money. You needn’t worry about taking it. You can get yourself a nice room by yourself. I won’t hurt you.”

      Carrie saw the drift, but could not express her thoughts. She felt more than ever the helplessness of her case.

      “If I could only get something to do,” she said.

      “Maybe you can,” went on Drouet, “if you stay here. You can’t if you go away. They won’t let you stay out there. Now, why not let me get you a nice room? I won’t bother you — you needn’t be afraid. Then, when you get fixed up, maybe you could get something.”

      He looked at her pretty face and it vivified his mental resources. She was a sweet little mortal to him — there was no doubt of that. She seemed to have some power back of her actions. She was not like the common run of store-girls. She wasn’t silly.

      In reality, Carrie had more imagination than he — more taste. It was a finer mental strain in her that made possible her depression and loneliness. Her poor clothes were neat, and she held her head unconsciously in a dainty way.

      “Do you think I could get something?” she asked.

      “Sure,” he said, reaching over and filling her cup with tea. “I’ll help you.”

      She looked at him, and he laughed reassuringly.

      “Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll go over here to Partridge’s and you pick out what you want. Then we’ll look around for a room for you. You can leave the things there. Then we’ll go to the show to-night.”

      Carrie shook her head.

      “Well, you can go out to the flat then, that’s all right. You don’t need to stay in the room. Just take it and leave your things there.”

      She hung in doubt about this until the dinner was over.

      “Let’s go over and look at the jackets,” he said.

      Together they went. In the store they found that shine and rustle of new things which immediately laid hold of Carrie’s heart. Under the influence of a good dinner and Drouet’s radiating presence, the scheme proposed seemed feasible. She looked about and picked a jacket like the one which she had admired at The Fair. When she got it in her hand it seemed so much nicer. The saleswoman helped her on with it, and, by accident, it fitted perfectly. Drouet’s face lightened as he saw the improvement. She looked quite smart.

      “That’s the thing,” he said.

      Carrie turned before the glass. She could not help feeling pleased as she looked at herself. A warm glow crept into her cheeks.

      “That’s the thing,” said Drouet. “Now pay for it.”

      “It’s nine dollars,” said Carrie.

      “That’s all right — take it,” said Drouet.

      She reached in her purse and took out one of the bills. The woman asked if she would wear the coat and went off. In a few minutes she was back and the purchase was closed.

      From Partridge’s they went to a shoe store, where Carrie was fitted for shoes. Drouet stood by, and when he saw how nice they looked, said, “Wear them.” Carrie shook her head, however. She was thinking of returning to the flat. He bought her a purse for one thing, and a pair of gloves for another, and let her buy the stockings.

      “To-morrow,” he said, “you come down here and buy yourself a skirt.”

      In all of Carrie’s actions there was a touch of misgiving. The deeper she sank into the entanglement, the more she imagined that the thing hung upon the few remaining things she had not done. Since she had not done these, there was a way out.

      Drouet knew a place in Wabash Avenue where there were rooms. He showed Carrie the outside of these, and said: “Now, you’re my sister.” He carried the arrangement off with an easy hand when it came to the selection, looking around, criticising, opining. “Her trunk will be here in a day or so,” he observed to the landlady, who was very pleased.

      When they were alone, Drouet did not change in the least. He talked in the same general way as if they were out in the street. Carrie left her things.

      “Now,” said Drouet, “why don’t you move to-night?”

      “Oh, I can’t,” said Carrie.

      “Why not?”

      “I don’t want to leave them so.”

      He СКАЧАТЬ