Сестра Керри

Chapter XLII. A Touch Of Spring: The Empty Shell

           

           “Oh,jolly!”criedthelatter.

           “Canwegetitrightaway?”sheasked,meaningtheroom.

           “Certainly,”criedLola.

           Theywenttolookatit.Carriehadsavedtendollarsfromherexpenditures—enoughforthisandherboardbeside.Herenlargedsalarywouldnotbeginfortendaysyet—wouldnotreachherforseventeen.Shepaidhalfofthesixdollarswithherfriend.

           “Now,I’vejustenoughtogetontotheendoftheweek,”sheconfided.

           “Oh,I’vegotsome,”saidLola.“I’vegottwenty-fivedollars,ifyouneedit.”

           “No,”saidCarrie.“IguessI’llgetalong.”

           TheydecidedtomoveFriday,whichwastwodaysaway.Nowthatthethingwassettled,Carrie’sheartmisgaveher.Shefeltverymuchlikeacriminalinthematter.EachdaylookingatHurstwood,shehadrealisedthat,alongwiththedisagreeablenessofhisattitude,therewassomethingpathetic.

           Shelookedathimthesameeveningshehadmadeuphermindtogo,andnowheseemednotsoshiftlessandworthless,butrundownandbeatenuponbychance.Hiseyeswerenotkeen,hisfacemarked,hishandsflabby.Shethoughthishairhadatouchofgrey.Allunconsciousofhisdoom,herockedandreadhispaper,whilesheglancedathim.

           Knowingthattheendwassonear,shebecamerathersolicitous.

           “Willyougooverandgetsomecannedpeaches?”sheaskedHurstwood,layingdownatwo-dollarbill.

           “Certainly,”hesaid,lookinginwonderatthemoney.

           “Seeifyoucangetsomeniceasparagus,”sheadded.“I’llcookitfordinner.”

           Hurstwoodroseandtookthemoney,slippingonhisovercoatandgettinghishat.

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