Сестра Керри

Chapter XXXVI. A Grim Retrogression: The Phantom Of Chance

           Likethemorphinefiend,hewasbecomingaddictedtohisease.Anythingtorelievehismentaldistress,tosatisfyhiscravingforcomfort.Hemustdoit.Nothoughtsforthemorrow—hecouldnotstandtothinkofitanymorethanhecouldofanyothercalamity.Likethecertaintyofdeath,hetriedtoshutthecertaintyofsoonbeingwithoutadollarcompletelyoutofhismind,andhecameveryneardoingit.

           Well-dressedguestsmovingtoandfrooverthethickcarpetscarriedhimbacktotheolddays.Ayounglady,aguestofthehouse,playingapianoinanalcovepleasedhim.Hesattherereading.

           Hisdinnercosthim$1.50.Byeighto’clockhewasthrough,andthen,seeingguestsleavingandthecrowdofpleasure-seekersthickeningoutsidewonderedwhereheshouldgo.Nothome.Carriewouldbeup.No,hewouldnotgobacktherethisevening.Hewouldstayoutandknockaroundasamanwhowasindependent—notbroke—wellmight.Heboughtacigar,andwentoutsideonthecornerwhereotherindividualswerelounging—brokers,racingpeople,thespians—hisownfleshandblood.Ashestoodthere,hethoughtoftheoldeveningsinChicago,andhowheusedtodisposeofthem.Many’sthegamehehadhad.Thistookhimtopoker.

           “Ididn’tdothatthingrighttheotherday,”hethought,referringtohislossofsixtydollars.“Ishouldn’thaveweakened.Icouldhavebluffedthatfellowdown.Iwasn’tinform,that’swhatailedme.”

           Thenhestudiedthepossibilitiesofthegameasithadbeenplayed,andbegantofigurehowhemighthavewon,inseveralinstances,bybluffingalittleharder.

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