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Updated: May 13, 2025
Drouet came across the floor with a festive stride, a new pair of tan shoes squeaking audibly at his progress. "Well, sir," said Hurstwood, "I was wondering what had become of you. I thought you had gone out of town again." Drouet laughed. "If you don't report more regularly we'll have to cut you off the list." "Couldn't help it," said the drummer, "I've been busy."
Her eyes brightened, for if there was anything that enlisted her sympathies it was the art of the stage. True to his nature, Drouet clung to this idea as an easy way out. "That's nothing. You can act all you have to down there." "No, I can't," said Carrie weakly, very much drawn toward the proposition and yet fearful. "Yes, you can. Now, why don't you do it?
"Supposing you get 'em and take 'em out to dinner?" "Sure," said Drouet. "Wait'll I go upstairs and change my clothes." "Well, I'll be in the barber shop," said the other. "I want to get a shave." "All right," said Drouet, creaking off in his good shoes toward the elevator. The old butterfly was as light on the wing as ever.
I told Carrie, and she seems to want to try." "Good for her," said the manager. "It'll be a real nice affair. Do her good, too. Has she ever had any experience?" "Not a bit." "Oh, well, it isn't anything very serious." "She's clever, though," said Drouet, casting off any imputation against Carrie's ability. "She picks up her part quick enough." "You don't say so!" said the manager.
I knew it when I came home. That's why I asked you." "What is the play, did you say?" "'Under the Gaslight." "What part would they want me to take?" "Oh, one of the heroines I don't know." "What sort of a play is it?" "Well," said Drouet, whose memory for such things was not the best, "it's about a girl who gets kidnapped by a couple of crooks a man and a woman that live in the slums.
"You oughtn't to have had anything to do with him," said Drouet in an injured tone, "after all I've done for you." "You," said Carrie, "you! What have you done for me?" Her little brain had been surging with contradictory feelings shame at exposure, shame at Hurstwood's perfidy, anger at Drouet's deception, the mockery he had made at her. Now one clear idea came into her head. He was at fault.
On the way his temper cooled as he thought of the details of the case. What did she know? What had she done? Maybe she'd got hold of Carrie, who knows or or Drouet. Perhaps she really had evidence, and was prepared to fell him as a man does another from secret ambush. She was shrewd. Why should she taunt him this way unless she had good grounds?
On several occasions, when Drouet had caught her admiring herself, as he imagined, in the mirror, she was doing nothing more than recalling some little grace of the mouth or the eyes which she had witnessed in another.
As soon as General Drouet, their commander, had fifteen pieces in the field, he began firing, and his line grew in size until he had fifty cannons, which he advanced, firing continuously, although he still had very few troops behind him to give support; however it was not possible for the enemy to see through the thick smoke from the guns, that the gunners had little to back them up.
"He's got the money, all right," and a little twinkle passed over his eyes. "I don't go much on those things, do you?" asked Drouet. "Well, you never can tell," said Hurstwood. "There may be something to it. I wouldn't bother about it myself, though. By the way," he added, "are you going anywhere to-night?" "'The Hole in the Ground," said Drouet, mentioning the popular farce of the time.
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