Сестра Керри

Chapter XLI. The Strike

           

           “IbelieveI’llturnin,”saidtheman.

           Rising,hewenttooneofthecotsandstretchedhimself,removingonlyhisshoes,andpullingtheoneblanketanddirtyoldcomforteroverhiminasortofbundle.ThesightdisgustedHurstwood,buthedidnotdwellonit,choosingtogazeintothestoveandthinkofsomethingelse.Presentlyhedecidedtoretire,andpickedacot,alsoremovinghisshoes.

           Whilehewasdoingso,theyouthwhohadadvisedhimtocomehereentered,and,seeingHurstwood,triedtobegenial.

           “Better’nnothin’,”heobserved,lookingaround.

           Hurstwooddidnottakethistohimself.Hethoughtittobeanexpressionofindividualsatisfaction,andsodidnotanswer.Theyouthimaginedhewasoutofsorts,andsettowhistlingsoftly.Seeinganothermanasleep,hequitthatandlapsedintosilence.

           Hurstwoodmadethebestofabadlotbykeepingonhisclothesandpushingawaythedirtycoveringfromhishead,butatlasthedozedinsheerweariness.Thecoveringbecamemoreandmorecomfortable,itscharacterwasforgotten,andhepulleditabouthisneckandslept.Inthemorninghewasarousedoutofapleasantdreambyseveralmenstirringaboutinthecold,cheerlessroom.HehadbeenbackinChicagoinfancy,inhisowncomfortablehome.Jessicahadbeenarrangingtogosomewhere,andhehadbeentalkingwithheraboutit.Thiswassoclearinhismind,thathewasstartlednowbythecontrastofthisroom.Heraisedhishead,andthecold,bitterrealityjarredhimintowakefulness.

           “GuessI’dbettergetup,”hesaid.

           Therewasnowateronthisfloor.

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