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Updated: May 13, 2025
"You won't fail," assured Drouet. "Just act as you do around here. Be natural. You're all right. I've often thought you'd make a corking good actress." "Did you really?" asked Carrie. "That's right," said the drummer. He little knew as he went out of the door that night what a secret flame he had kindled in the bosom of the girl he left behind.
Never was man more harassed than he by the thoughts of his love being held by the elated, flush-mannered drummer. He would have given anything, it seemed to him, to have the complication ended to have Carrie acquiesce to an arrangement which would dispose of Drouet effectually and forever. What to do. He dressed thinking. He moved about in the same chamber with his wife, unmindful of her presence.
But since the world goes its way past all who will not partake of its folly, she now found herself alone. Her purse was open to him whose need was greatest. In her walks on Broadway, she no longer thought of the elegance of the creatures who passed her. Had they more of that peace and beauty which glimmered afar off, then were they to be envied. Drouet abandoned his claim and was seen no more.
At the same moment a youth burst from the crowd which had gathered round them, sprang upon Drouet, disarmed and slew him; and probably, at the same moment, paid the penalty by the loss of his own life, leaving his name unknown and the mystery forever unsolved whether it were love for the injured woman, the impulse of a generous heart, or the more exalted flame of patriotism that prompted him thus to give the signal of deliverance.
When she was ready they climbed into the waiting coach and drove down town; once, only, did she find an opportunity to express her feeling, and that was when the manager preceded Drouet in the coach and sat beside her. Before Drouet was fully in she had squeezed Hurstwood's hand in a gentle, impulsive manner. The manager was beside himself with affection.
But since the world goes its way past all who will not partake of its folly, she now found herself alone. Her purse was open to him whose need was greatest. In her walks on Broadway, she no longer thought of the elegance of the creatures who passed her. Had they more of that peace and beauty which glimmered afar off, then were they to be envied. Drouet abandoned his claim and was seen no more.
She was glad to be out of the flat, because already she felt that it was a narrow, humdrum place, and that interest and joy lay elsewhere. Her thoughts now were of a more liberal character, and she punctuated them with speculations as to the whereabouts of Drouet.
The fact of their intimate connection became gradually known through Paris. It was known even to Mme. Hugo; but she, remembering the affair of Sainte-Beuve, or knowing how difficult it is to check the will of a man like Hugo, made no sign, and even received Juliette Drouet in her own house and visited her in turn.
"Chicago!" called the brakeman, drawing the word out long. They were under a great shadowy train shed, where the lamps were already beginning to shine out, with passenger cars all about and the train moving at a snail's pace. The people in the car were all up and crowding about the door. "Well, here we are," said Drouet, leading the way to the door. "Good-bye, till I see you Monday."
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Carrie. Could it be he would refer so rudely to Hurstwood's flight with her? "Oho!" said Drouet, incredulously. "You knew he took ten thousand dollars with him when he left, didn't you?" "What!" said Carrie. "You don't mean to say he stole money, do you?" "Why," said Drouet, puzzled at her tone, "you knew that, didn't you?" "Why, no," said Carrie.
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