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“Well,” he said, as he took her arm – and there was an exuberance of good-fellowship in the word which fairly warmed the cockles of her heart.[25 - “Well,” he said, as he took her arm – and there was an exuberance of good-fellowship in the word which fairly warmed the cockles of her heart. – Ну, – сказал он, беря ее под руку, и в тоне его было столько простого товарищеского чувства, что у девушки стало тепло на душе.]
They went through Monroe Street to the old Windson dining-room, which was then a large, comfortable place with an excellent cuisine and substantial service. Drouet selected a table close by the window, where the busy route of the street could be seen. He loved the changing panorama of the street – to see and be seen as he dined.
“Now,” he said, getting Carrie and himself comfortably settled, “what will you have?”
Carrie looked over the large bill of fare which the waiter handed her without really considering it. She was very hungry, and the things she saw there awakened her desires, but the high prices held her attention. “Half broiled spring chicken – seventy-five. Sirloin steak with mushrooms – one twenty-five.” She had dimly heard of these things, but it seemed strange to be called to order from the list.
“I’ll fix this,” exclaimed Drouet. “Sst! waiter.”
That officer of the board, a full-chested, round-faced negro, approached, and inclined his ear.
“Sirloin with mushrooms,” said Drouet. “Stuffed tomatoes.”
“Yassah,” assented the negro, nodding his head.
“Hashed brown potatoes.”[26 - Hashed brown potatoes. – Жаренный картофель.]
“Yassah.”
“Asparagus.”
“Yassah.”
“And a pot of coffee.”
Drouet turned to Carrie. “I haven’t had a thing since breakfast.
Just got in from Rock Island. I was going off to dine when I saw you.”
Carrie smiled and smiled.
“What have you been doing?” he went on. “Tell me all about yourself. How is your sister?”
“She’s well,” returned Carrie, answering the last query.
He looked at her hard.
“Say,” he said, “you haven’t been sick, have you?”
Carrie nodded.
“Well, now that’s a blooming shame, isn’t it? You don’t look very well. I thought you looked a little pale.
What have you been doing?”
“Working,” said Carrie.
“You don’t say so! At what?”
She told him.
“Rhodes, Morgenthua and Scott – why I know that house.
Over here on Fifth Avenue, isn’t it? They’re a close-fisted concern.
What made you go there?”
“I couldn’t get anything else,” said Carrie frankly.
“Well, that’s an outrage,” said Drouet. “You oughtn’t to be working for those people. Have the factory right back of the store, don’t they?”
“Yes,” said Carrie.
“That isn’t a good house,” said Drouet. “You don’t want to work at anything like that, anyhow.”
“So you lost your place because you got sick, eh?” he said.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Look around,” she said, a thought of the need that hung outside this fine restaurant like a hungry dog at her wheels passing into her eyes.
“Oh, no,” said Drouet, “that won’t do. How long have you been looking?”
“Four days,” she answered.
“Think of that!” he said, addressing some problematical individual. “You oughtn’t to be doing anything like that. These girls,” and he waved an inclusion of all shop and factory girls, “don’t get anything. Why, you can’t live on it, can you?”
He was a brotherly sort of creature in his demeanour.
“Why don’t you stay down town and go to the theatre with me?” he said, hitching his chair closer. The table was not very wide.
“Oh, I can’t,” she said.
“What are you going to do to-night?”
“Nothing,” she answered, a little drearily.
“You don’t like out there where you are, do you?”
“Oh I don’t know.”
“What are you going to do if you don’t get work?”
“Go back home, I guess.”
There was least quaver in her voice as she said this. Somehow, the influence he was exerting was powerful. They came to an understanding of each other without words – he of her situation, she of the fact that he realized it.
“No,” he said, “you can’t make it!” genuine sympathy filling his mind for the time. “Let me help you. You take some of my money”
“Oh, no!” she said, leaning back.
“What are you going to do?” he said.
She sat meditating, merely shaking her head.
He looked at her quite tenderly for his kind. There were some loose bills in his vest pocket – greenbacks They were soft and noiseless, and he got his fingers about them and crumpled them up in his hand.
“Come on,” he said, “I’ll see you through all right. Get yourself some clothes.”
It was the first reference he had made to that subject, and now she realized how bad off she was. In his crude way he had struck the key-note. Her lips trembled a little.
She had her hand out on the table before her. They were quite alone in their corner, and he put his larger, warmer hand over it.
“Aw, come, Carrie,” he said, “what can you do alone? Let me help you.”
He pressed her hand gently and she tried to withdraw it. At this he held it fast, and she no longer protested. Then he slipped the greenbacks he had into her palm, and when she began to protest, he whispered:
“I’ll loan it to you – that’s all right. I’ll loan it to you.”
He made her take it. She felt bound to him by a strange tie of affection now. They went out, and he walked with her far out south toward Polk Street, talking.
“You don’t want to live with those people?” he said in one place, abstractedly. Carrie heard it, but it made only a slight impression.
“Come down and meet me to-morrow,” he said, “and we’ll go to the matinee. Will you?”
Carrie protested a while, but acquiesced.
“You’re not doing anything. Get yourself a nice pair of shoes and a jacket.”
She scarcely gave a thought to the complication which would trouble her when he was gone. In his presence, she was of his own hopeful, easy-way-out mood.
“Don’t you bother about those people out there,” he said at parting. “I’ll help you.”
Carrie left him, feeling as though a great arm had slipped out before her to draw off trouble. The money she had accepted was two soft, green, handsome ten-dollar bills.
Chapter VII
The Lure of the Material: Beauty Speaks for Itself
The poor girl thrilled as she walked away from Drouet. She felt ashamed in part because she had been weak enough to take it, but her need was so dire, she was still glad. Now she would have a nice jacket! Now she would buy a nice pair button shoes. She would get stockings too, and skirts, and, and – until already, as in the matter of her prospective salary, she had got beyond, in her desires, twice the purchasing power of her bills.
She conceived a true estimate of Drouet. To her, and indeed to all the world, he was a nice, good-hearted man. There was nothing evil in the fellow. He gave her the want. He would not have given the same amount to a poor young man, but we must not forget that a poor young man could not, in the nature of things, have appealed to him like a poor young girl.
When Carrie had gone, he felicitated himself upon her good opinion. By George, it was a shame young girls had to be knocked around like that. Cold weather coming on and no clothes. Tough. He would go around to Fitzgerald and Moy’s and get a cigar. It made him feel light of foot as he thought about her.
Carrie reached home in high good spirits, which she could scarcely conceal. The possession of the money involved a number of points which perplexed her seriously. How should she buy any clothes when Minnie knew that she had no money? She had no sooner entered the flat than this point was settled for her. It could not be done. She could think of no way of explaining.
“How did you come out?” asked Minnie, referring to the day. Carrie had none of the small deception which could feel one thing and say something directly opposed. She would prevaricate, but it would be in the line of her feelings, at least. So instead of complaining when she felt so good, she said:
“I have the promise of something.”
“Where?”
“At the Boston Store.”
“Is it sure promised?” questioned Minnie.
“Well, I’m to find out to-morrow,” returned Carrie disliked to draw out a lie any longer than was necessary.
Minnie felt the atmosphere of good feeling which Carrie brought with her. She felt now was the time to express to Carrie the state of Hanson’s feeling about her entire Chicago venture.
“If you shouldn’t get it –” she paused, troubled for an easy way.
“If I don’t get something pretty soon, I think I’ll go home.”
Minnie saw her chance.
“Sven thinks it might be best for the winter, anyhow.”
The situation flashed on Carrie at once. They were unwilling to keep her any longer, out of work. She did not blame Minnie, she did not blame Hanson very much. Now, as she sat there digesting the remark, she was glad she had Drouet’s money.
“Yes,” she said after a few moments, “I thought of doing that.”
She did not explain that the thought, however, had aroused all the antagonism of her nature. Columbia City, what was there for her? She knew its dull little round by heart. Here was the great, mysterious city which was still a magnet for her. What she had seen only suggested its possibilities. Now to turn back on it and live the little old life out there – she almost exclaimed against the thought.
Curiously, she could not hold the money in her hand without feeling some relief. Even after all her depressing conclusions, she could sweep away all thought about the matter and then the twenty dollars seemed a wonderful and delightful thing. Ah, money, money, money! What a thing it was to have. How plenty of it would clear away all these troubles.
In the morning she got up and started out a little early. Her decision to hunt for work was moderately strong, but the money in her pocket, after all her troubling over it, made the work question the least shade less terrible.
Without much thinking, she reached Dearborn Street. Here was the great Fair store with its multitude of delivery wagons about, its long window display, its crowd of shoppers. It readily changed her thoughts, she who was so weary of them. It was here that she had intended to come and get her new things. Now for relief from distress; she thought she would go in and see. She would look at the jackets.
When she entered the store, she already had her heart fixed upon the peculiar little tan jacket with large mother-of-pearl buttons which was all the rage that fall[27 - all the rage that fall – крик моды в ту осень]. Still she delighted to convince herself that there was nothing she would like better. She went about among the glass cases and racks where these things were displayed, and satisfied herself that the one she thought of was the proper one. All the time she wavered in mind[28 - wavered in mind – была в нерешительности], now persuading herself that she could buy it right away if she chose, now recalling to herself the actual condition. At last the noon hour was dangerously near, and she had done nothing. She must go now and return the money.
Drouet was on the corner when she came up.
“Hello,” he said, “where is the jacket and” – looking down – “the shoes?”
Carrie had thought lead up to her decision in some intelligent way, but this swept the whole fore-schemed situation by the board[29 - but this swept the whole fore-schemed situation by the board – но это «смыло» все заранее заготовленные фразы «за борт»].
“I came to tell you that – that I can’t take the money.”
“Oh, that’s it, is it?” he returned. “Well, you come on with me. Let’s go over here to Partridge’s.”
Carrie walked with him. Behold, the whole fabric of doubt and impossibility had slipped from her mind. She could not get at the points that were so serious, the things she was going to make plain to him.
“Have 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 cozy corner, and Drouet had ordered the lunch. “I can’t wear those things out there. They wouldn’t know where I got them.”
