Chapter XX. The Lure Of The Spirit: The Flesh In Pursuit

           

           PassioninamanofHurstwood’snaturetakesavigorousform.Itisnomusing,dreamything.Thereisnoneofthetendencytosingoutsideofmylady’swindow—tolanguishandrepineinthefaceofdifficulties.Inthenighthewaslonggettingtosleepbecauseoftoomuchthinking,andinthemorninghewasearlyawake,seizingwithalacrityuponthesamedearsubjectandpursuingitwithvigour.Hewasoutofsortsphysically,aswellasdisorderedmentally,fordidhenotdelightinanewmannerinhisCarrie,andwasnotDrouetintheway?Neverwasmanmoreharassedthanhebythethoughtsofhislovebeingheldbytheelated,flush-mannereddrummer.Hewouldhavegivenanything,itseemedtohim,tohavethecomplicationended—tohaveCarrieacquiescetoanarrangementwhichwoulddisposeofDroueteffectuallyandforever.

           Whattodo.Hedressedthinking.Hemovedaboutinthesamechamberwithhiswife,unmindfulofherpresence.

           Atbreakfasthefoundhimselfwithoutanappetite.Themeattowhichhehelpedhimselfremainedonhisplateuntouched.Hiscoffeegrewcold,whilehescannedthepaperindifferently.Hereandtherehereadalittlething,butrememberednothing.Jessicahadnotyetcomedown.Hiswifesatatoneendofthetablerevolvingthoughtsofherowninsilence.Anewservanthadbeenrecentlyinstalledandhadforgotthenapkins.Onthisaccountthesilencewasirritablybrokenbyareproof.

           “I’vetoldyouaboutthisbefore,Maggie,”saidMrs.Hurstwood.“I’mnotgoingtotellyouagain.”

           Hurstwoodtookaglanceathiswife.Shewasfrowning.

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