“Yes,” she answered.
“Not a word, then, until I see you again.”
He retained a hold on her hand.
“I can’t promise,” she said, doubtfully.
“You must be more generous than that,” he said, in such a simple way that she was touched.
“Let’s not talk about it any more,” she returned.
“All right,” he said, brightening.
He went down the steps and into his cab.
Carrie closed the door and ascended into her room.
She undid her broad lace collar before the mirror and unfastened her pretty alligator belt which she had recently bought.
“I’m getting terrible,” she said, honestly affected by a feeling of trouble and shame.
“I don’t seem to do anything right.”
She unloosed her hair after a time, and let it hang in loose brown waves.
Her mind was going over the events of the evening.
“I don’t know,” she murmured at last, “what I can do.”
“Well,” said Hurstwood as he rode away, “she likes me all right; that I know.”
The aroused manager whistled merrily for a good four miles to his office an old melody that he had not recalled for fifteen years.
Chapter XIII
His Credentials Accepted — A Babel of Tongues
It was not quite two days after the scene between Carrie and Hurstwood in the Ogden Place parlour before he again put in his appearance.
He had been thinking almost uninterruptedly of her.
Her leniency had, in a way, inflamed his regard.
He felt that he must succeed with her, and that speedily.
The reason for his interest, not to say fascination, was deeper than mere desire.
It was a flowering out of feelings which had been withering in dry and almost barren soil for many years.
It is probable that Carrie represented a better order of woman than had ever attracted him before.
He had had no love affair since that which culminated in his marriage, and since then time and the world had taught him how raw and erroneous was his original judgment.
Whenever he thought of it, he told himself that, if he had it to do over again, he would never marry such a woman.
At the same time, his experience with women in general had lessened his respect for the sex.
He maintained a cynical attitude, well grounded on numerous experiences.
Such women as he had known were of nearly one type, selfish, ignorant, flashy.
The wives of his friends were not inspiring to look upon. His own wife had developed a cold, commonplace nature which to him was anything but pleasing.
What he knew of that under-world where grovel the beat-men of society (and he knew a great deal) had hardened his nature.
He looked upon most women with suspicion — a single eye to the utility of beauty and dress.
He followed them with a keen, suggestive glance.
At the same time, he was not so dull but that a good woman commanded his respect.
Personally, he did not attempt to analyse the marvel of a saintly woman.
He would take off his hat, and would silence the light-tongued and the vicious in her presence — much as the Irish keeper of a Bowery hall will humble himself before a Sister of Mercy, and pay toll to charity with a willing and reverent hand.
But he would not think much upon the question of why he did so.
A man in his situation who comes, after a long round of worthless or hardening experiences, upon a young, unsophisticated, innocent soul, is apt either to hold aloof, out of a sense of his own remoteness, or to draw near and become fascinated and elated by his discovery.
It is only by a roundabout process that such men ever do draw near such a girl.
They have no method, no understanding of how to ingratiate themselves in youthful favour, save when they find virtue in the toils.
If, unfortunately, the fly has got caught in the net, the spider can come forth and talk business upon its own terms.
So when maidenhood has wandered into the moil of the city, when it is brought within the circle of the “rounder” and the roue, even though it be at the outermost rim, they can come forth and use their alluring arts.
Hurstwood had gone, at Drouet’s invitation, to meet a new baggage of fine clothes and pretty features.
He entered, expecting to indulge in an evening of lightsome frolic, and then lose track of the newcomer forever.
Instead he found a woman whose youth and beauty attracted him.
In the mild light of Carrie’s eye was nothing of the calculation of the mistress.
In the diffident manner was nothing of the art of the courtesan.
He saw at once that a mistake had been made, that some difficult conditions had pushed this troubled creature into his presence, and his interest was enlisted.