Сестра Керри

Chapter III. Wee Question Of Fortune: Four-fifty A Week

           Shecastaboutvainlyforsomepossibleplacetoapply,butfoundnodoorwhichshehadthecouragetoenter.Itwouldbethesamethingallover.Theoldhumiliationofherplea,rewardedbycurtdenial.Sickatheartandinbody,sheturnedtothewest,thedirectionofMinnie’sflat,whichshehadnowfixedinmind,andbeganthatwearisome,baffledretreatwhichtheseekerforemploymentatnightfalltoooftenmakes.InpassingthroughFifthAvenue,southtowardsVanBurenStreet,wheresheintendedtotakeacar,shepassedthedoorofalargewholesaleshoehouse,throughtheplate-glasswindowsofwhichshecouldseeamiddle-agedgentlemansittingatasmalldesk.Oneofthoseforlornimpulseswhichoftengrowoutofafixedsenseofdefeat,thelastsproutingofabaffledanduprootedgrowthofideas,seizeduponher.Shewalkeddeliberatelythroughthedooranduptothegentleman,wholookedatherwearyfacewithpartiallyawakenedinterest.

           “Whatisit?”hesaid.

           “Canyougivemesomethingtodo?”saidCarrie.

           “Now,Ireallydon’tknow,”hesaidkindly.“Whatkindofworkisityouwant—you’renotatypewriter,areyou?”

           “Oh,no,”answeredCarrie.

           “Well,weonlyemploybook-keepersandtypewritershere.Youmightgoaroundtothesideandinquireupstairs.Theydidwantsomehelpupstairsafewdaysago.AskforMr.Brown.”

           Shehastenedaroundtothesideentranceandwastakenupbytheelevatortothefourthfloor.

           “CallMr.Brown,Willie,”saidtheelevatormantoaboynearby.

           WilliewentoffandpresentlyreturnedwiththeinformationthatMr.

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