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Updated: May 13, 2025
Don't be afraid." The prompter signaled her. She started out, weak as ever, but suddenly her nerve partially returned. She thought of Drouet looking. "Ray," she said, gently, using a tone of voice much more calm than when she had last appeared. It was the scene which had pleased the director at the rehearsal. "She's easier," thought Hurstwood to himself.
" 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.
She made one more vain effort and then burst into tears. "Now, be reasonable, Cad," said Drouet gently. "What do you want to rush out for this way? You haven't any place to go. Why not stay here now and be quiet? I'll not bother you. I don't want to stay here any longer." Carrie had gone sobbing from the door to the window. She was so overcome she could not speak. "Be reasonable now," he said.
Both he and Drouet were left to discover that she was gone. The latter called once, and exclaimed at the news. Then he stood in the lobby, chewing the ends of his moustache. At last he reached a conclusion the old days had gone for good. "She isn't so much," he said; but in his heart of hearts he did not believe this. Hurstwood shifted by curious means through a long summer and fall.
He almost forgot that he had with him in the box those who knew him. By the Lord, he would have that lovely girl if it took his all. He would act at once. This should be the end of Drouet, and don't you forget it. He would not wait another day. The drummer should not have her. He was so excited that he could not stay in the box. He went into the lobby, and then into the street, thinking.
One dollar fifty and two dollars seemed to be the most common figures upon this most tastefully printed bill of fare. Carrie noticed this, and in scanning it the price of spring chicken carried her back to that other bill of fare and far different occasion when, for the first time, she sat with Drouet in a good restaurant in Chicago.
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.
He's manager of Fitzgerald and Moy's." "What's that?" said Carrie. "The finest resort in town. It's a way-up, swell place." Carrie puzzled a moment. She was wondering what Drouet had told him, what her attitude would be. "That's all right," said Drouet, feeling her thought. "He doesn't know anything. You're Mrs. Drouet now."
"Drouet is a good fellow," Hurstwood thought to himself as he went back into his office, "but he's no man for Carrie." The thought of the latter turned his mind into a most pleasant vein, and he wandered how he would get ahead of the drummer. When Drouet entered Carrie's presence, he caught her in his arms as usual, but she responded to his kiss with a tremour of opposition.
He hastened to his room with rising spirits and changed his linen. As he did so, he made up his mind that if Carrie was alone, or if she had gone to another place, it behooved him to find out. He decided to call at once. "I know what I'll do," he thought. "I'll go to the door and ask if Mr. Drouet is at home. That will bring out whether he is there or not and where Carrie is."
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