亚洲娱乐传媒有限公司

作者:谢初之
来源:哔咔漫画分享日漫吗
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亚洲娱乐传媒有限公司  "Certainly," said Carrie. "I'm glad you did. I do the samething sometimes."

  He hastened to his room with rising spirits and changed hislinen. As he did so, he made up his mind that if Carrie wasalone, or if she had gone to another place, it behooved him tofind out. He decided to call at once.亚洲娱乐传媒有限公司  In the course of time it told upon his temper. His eye no longerpossessed that buoyant, searching shrewdness which hadcharacterised it in Adams Street. His step was not as sharp andfirm. He was given to thinking, thinking, thinking. The newfriends he made were not celebrities. They were of a cheaper, aslightly more sensual and cruder, grade. He could not possiblytake the pleasure in this company that he had in that of thosefine frequenters of the Chicago resort. He was left to brood.

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  She made no answer, but looked steadily toward the window.

  "Ain't you afraid you'll hurt yourself?" he asked.

  "Glad you liked them," he answered, simply.

  "I say," said Hurstwood, as they came up the theatre lobby, "weare exceedingly charming this evening."

  "I don't know," said Carrie. "I feel real bad."

  Hurstwood at first sympathised with the demands of these men--indeed, it is a question whether he did not always sympathisewith them to the end, belie him as his actions might. Readingnearly all the news, he was attracted first by the scare-headswith which the trouble was noted in the "World." He read itfully--the names of the seven companies involved, the number ofmen.

  "Mrs. Wheeler, let me introduce Mr. Ames, a cousin of mine," saidMrs. Vance. "He's going along with us, aren't you, Bob?"

  He stopped as if slapped in the face. In an instant hispersuasive, conciliatory manner fled. He was on the defensive ata wink and puzzled for a word to reply.

  "Yassah."

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  "I met John B. Drake to-day," he said. "He's going to open ahotel here in the fall. He says that he can make a place for methen."
  Hurstwood began to feel a deep sympathy for her and for himself.He could almost feel that she was talking to him. He was, by acombination of feelings and entanglements, almost deluded by thatquality of voice and manner which, like a pathetic strain ofmusic, seems ever a personal and intimate thing. Pathos has thisquality, that it seems ever addressed to one alone.
  "Aw, let the engagement go. Come on. I can get rid of him. Iwant to have a good talk with you."…
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