Сестра Керри

Chapter XXXII. The Feast Of Belshazzar: A Seer To Translate

           Herdresseshadbeenallthatartcouldsuggest,hersufferingshadbeensoreal.TheanguishwhichshehadportrayedCarriecouldfeel.Itwasdoneasshewassureshecoulddoit.Therewereplacesinwhichshecouldevendobetter.Hencesherepeatedthelinestoherself.Oh,ifshecouldonlyhavesuchapart,howbroadwouldbeherlife!She,too,couldactappealingly.

           WhenHurstwoodcame,Carriewasmoody.Shewassitting,rockingandthinking,anddidnotcaretohaveherenticingimaginationsbrokeninupon;soshesaidlittleornothing.

           “What’sthematter,Carrie?”saidHurstwoodafteratime,noticingherquiet,almostmoodystate.

           “Nothing,”saidCarrie.“Idon’tfeelverywellto-night.”

           “Notsick,areyou?”heasked,approachingveryclose.

           “Oh,no,”shesaid,almostpettishly,“Ijustdon’tfeelverygood.”

           “That’stoobad,”hesaid,steppingawayandadjustinghisvestafterhisslightbendingover.“Iwasthinkingwemightgotoashowto-night.”

           “Idon’twanttogo,”saidCarrie,annoyedthatherfinevisionsshouldhavethusbeenbrokenintoanddrivenoutofhermind.“I’vebeentothematinéethisafternoon.”

           “Oh,youhave?”saidHurstwood.“Whatwasit?”

           “AGoldMine.”

           “Howwasit?”

           “Prettygood,”saidCarrie.

           “Andyoudon’twanttogoagainto-night?”

           “Idon’tthinkIdo,”shesaid.

           Nevertheless,wakenedoutofhermelancholiaandcalledtothedinnertable,shechangedhermind.Alittlefoodinthestomachdoeswonders.Shewentagain,andinsodoingtemporarilyrecoveredherequanimity.

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