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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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"Oh!" he exclaimed, pushing back from the table, as if to say more, but letting it go at that. Then he picked up his paper. Carrie left her seat, containing herself with difficulty. He saw she was hurt. "Don’t go ‘way," he said, as she started back into the kitchen. "Eat your dinner." She passed, not answering. He looked at the paper a few moments, and then rose up and put on his coat. "I’m going down town, Carrie," he said, coming out. "I’m out of sorts tonight." She did not answer. "Don’t be angry," he said. "It will be all right to-morrow." He looked at her, but she paid no attention to him, working at her dishes. "Good-bye!" he said finally, and went out. This was the first strong result of the situation between them, but with the nearing of the last day of business the gloom became almost a permanent thing. Hurstwood could not conceal his feelings about the matter. Carrie could not help wondering where she was drifting. It got so that they talked even less than usual, and yet it was not Hurstwood who felt any objection to Carrie. It was Carrie who shied away from him. This he noticed. It aroused an objection to her becoming indifferent to him. He made the possibility of friendly intercourse almost a giant task, and then noticed with discontent that Carrie added to it by her manner and made it more impossible. At last the final day came. When it actually arrived, Hurstwood, who had got his mind into such a state where a thunder-clap and raging storm would have seemed highly appropriate, was rather relieved to find that it was a plain, ordinary day. The sun shone, the temperature was pleasant. He felt, as he came to the breakfast table, that it wasn’t so terrible, after all. "Well," he said to Carrie, "to-day’s my last day on earth." Carrie smiled in answer to his humour. Hurstwood glanced over his paper rather gayly. He seemed to have lost a load. "I’ll go down for a little while," he said after breakfast, "and then I’ll look around. To-morrow I’ll spend the whole day looking about. I think I can get something, now this thing’s off my hands." He went out smiling and visited the place. Shaughnessy was there. They had made all arrangements to share according to their interests. When, however, he had been there several hours, gone out three more, and returned, his elation had departed. As much as he had objected to the place, now that it was no longer to exist, he felt sorry. He wished that things were different. Shaughnessy was coolly business-like. "Well," he said at five o’clock, "we might as well count the change and divide." They did so. The fixtures had already been sold and the sum divided. "Good-night," said Hurstwood at the final moment, in a last effort to be genial. "So long," said Shaughnessy, scarcely deigning a notice. Thus the Warren Street arrangement was permanently concluded. Carrie had prepared a good dinner at the flat, but after his ride up, Hurstwood was in a solemn and reflective mood. "Well?" said Carrie, inquisitively. "I’m out of that," he answered, taking off his coat. As she looked at him, she wondered what his financial state was now. They ate and talked a little. "Will you have enough to buy in anywhere else?" asked Carrie. "No," he said. "I’ll have to get something else and save up." "It would be nice if you could get some place," said Carrie, prompted by anxiety and hope. "I guess I will," he said reflectively. |
