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PinkMonkey Digital Library-Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser


The flare of the gas-jets, the open trunks, suggestive of travel and
display, the scattered contents of the make-up box-rouge, pearl
powder, whiting, burnt cork, India ink, pencils for the eyelids,
wigs, scissors, looking-glasses, drapery-in short, all the nameless
paraphernalia of disguise, have a remarkable atmosphere

of their own. Since her arrival in the city many things had
influenced her, but always in a far-removed manner. This new
atmosphere was more friendly. It was wholly unlike the great
brilliant mansions which waved her coldly away, permitting her
only awe and distant wonder. This took her by the hand kindly, as
one who says, "My dear, come in." It opened for her as if for its
own. She had wondered at the greatness of the names upon the
bill-boards, the marvel of the long notices in the papers, the
beauty of the dresses upon the stage, the atmosphere of carriages,
flowers, refinement. Here was no illusion. Here was an open door
to see all of that. She had come upon it as one who stumbles upon
a secret passage, and, behold, she was in the chamber of diamonds
and delight!

As she dressed with a flutter, in her little stage room, hearing the
voices out-side, seeing Mr. Quincel hurrying here and there,
noting Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Hoagland at their nervous work of
preparation, seeing all the twenty members of the cast moving
about and worrying over what the result would be, she could not
help thinking what a delight this would be if it would endure; how
perfect a state, if she could only do well now, and then some time
get a place as a real actress. The thought had taken a mighty hold
upon her. It hummed in her ears as the melody of an old song.

Outside in the little lobby another scene was being enacted.
Without the interest of Hurstwood, the little hall would probably
have been comfortably filled, for the members of the lodge were
moderately interested in its welfare. Hurstwood’s word, however,
had gone the rounds. It was to be a full-dress affair. The four

boxes had been taken. Dr. Norman McNeill Hale and his wife
were to occupy one. This was quite a card. C. R. Walker,
drygoods merchant and possessor of at least two hundred
thousand dollars, had taken another; a well-known coal merchant
had been induced to take the third, and Hurstwood and his friends
the fourth. Among the latter was Drouet. The people who were
now pouring here were not celebrities, nor even local notabilities,
in a general sense. They were the lights of a certain circle-the
circle of small fortunes and secret order distinctions. These
gentlemen Elks knew the standing of one another. They had
regard for the ability which could amass a small fortune, own a
nice home, keep a barouche or carriage, perhaps, wear fine
clothes, and maintain a good mercantile position. Naturally,
Hurstwood, who was a little above the order of mind which
accepted this standard as perfect, who had shrewdness and much
assumption of dignity, who held an imposing and authoritative
position, and commanded friendship by intuitive tact in handling
people, was quite a figure. He was more generally known than
most others in the same circle, and was looked upon as some one
whose reserve covered a mine of influence and solid financial
prosperity.

To-night he was in his element. He came with several friends
directly from Rector’s in a carriage. In the lobby he met Drouet,
who was just returning from a trip for more cigars. All five now
joined in an animated conversation concerning the company
present and the general drift of lodge affairs.

"Who’s here?" said Hurstwood, passing into the theatre proper,
where the lights were turned up and a company of gentlemen were
laughing and talking in the open space back of the seats.

"Why, how do you do, Mr. Hurstwood?" came from the first
individual recognised.

"Glad to see you," said the latter, grasping his hand lightly.

"Looks quite an affair, doesn’t it?"

"Yes, indeed," said the manager.

"Custer seems to have the backing of its members," observed the
friend.

"So it should," said the knowing manager. "I’m glad to see it."
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PinkMonkey Digital Library-Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser



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