《嘉莉妹妹》水愈搅愈混：心越思越乱
Playing in New York one evening on this her return, Carrie was putting the finishing touches to her toilet before leaving for the night, when a commotion near the stage door caught her ear. It included a familiar voice.
"Never mind, now. I want to see Miss Madenda."
"You'll have to send in your card."
"Oh, come off！ Here."
A half-dollar was passed over, and now a knock came at her dressing-room door.
Carrie opened it.
"Well, well！" said Drouet. "I do swear！ Why, how are you? I knew that was you the moment I saw you."
Carrie fell back a pace, expecting a most embarrassing conversation.
"Aren't you going to shake hands with me? Well, you're a dandy！ That's all right, shake hands."
Carrie put out her hand, smiling, if for nothing more than the man's exuberant good-nature. Though older, he was but slightly changed. The same fine clothes, the same stocky body, the same rosy countenance.
"That fellow at the door there didn't want to let me in, until I paid him. I knew it was you, all right. Say, you've got a great show. You do your part fine. I knew you would. I just happened to be passing tonight and thought I'd drop in for a few minutes. I saw your name on the programme, but I didn't remember it until you came on the stage. Then it struck me all at once. Say, you could have knocked me down with a feather. That's the same name you used out there in Chicago, isn't it?"
"Yes," answered Carrie, mildly, overwhelmed by the man's assurance.
"I knew it was, the moment I saw you. Well, how have you been, anyhow?"
"Oh, very well," said Carrie, lingering in her dressing-room. She was rather dazed by the assault. "How have you been?"
"Me? Oh, fine. I'm here now."
"Is that so?" said Carrie.
"Yes. I've been here for six months. I've got charge of a branch here."
"How nice！"
"Well, when did you go on the stage, anyhow?" inquired Drouet.
"About three years ago," said Carrie.
"You don't say so！ Well, sir, this is the first I've heard of it. I knew you would, though. I always said you could act -- didn't I?"
Carrie smiled.
"Yes, you did," she said.
"Well, you do look great," he said. "I never saw anybody improve so. You're taller, aren't you?"
"Me? Oh, a little, maybe."
He gazed at her dress, then at her hair, where a becoming hat was set jauntily, then into her eyes, which she took all occasion to avert. Evidently he expected to restore their old friendship at once and without modification.
"Well," he said, seeing her gather up her purse, handkerchief, and the like, preparatory to departing, "I want you to come out to dinner with me; won't you? I've got a friend out here."
"Oh, I can't," said Carrie. "Not to-night. I have an early engagement to-morrow."
"Aw, let the engagement go. Come on. I can get rid of him. I want to have a good talk with you."
"No, no," said Carrie; "I can't. You mustn't ask me any more. I don't care for a late dinner."
"Well, come on and have a talk, then, anyhow."
"Not to-night," she said, shaking her head. "We'll have a talk some other time."
As a result of this, she noticed a shade of thought pass over his face, as if he were beginning to realise that things were changed. Good-nature dictated something better than this for one who had always liked her.
"You come around to the hotel to-morrow," she said, as sort of penance for error. "You can take dinner with me."
"All right," said Drouet, brightening. "Where are you stopping?"
"At the Waldorf," she answered, mentioning the fashionable hostelry then but newly erected.
"What time?"
"Well, come at three," said Carrie, pleasantly.
The next day Drouet called, but it was with no especial delight that Carrie remembered her appointment. However, seeing him, handsome as ever, after his kind, and most genially disposed, her doubts as to whether the dinner would be disagreeable were swept away. He talked as volubly as ever.
"They put on a lot of lugs here, don't they?" was his first remark.
"Yes; they do," said Carrie.
Genial egotist that he was, he went at once into a detailed account of his own career.
"I'm going to have a business of my own pretty soon," he observed in one place. "I can get backing for two hundred thousand dollars."
Carrie listened most good-naturedly.
"Say," he said, suddenly; "where is Hurstwood now?"
Carrie flushed a little.
"He's here in New York, I guess," she said. "I haven't seen him for some time."
Drouet mused for a moment. He had not been sure until now that the ex-manager was not an influential figure in the background. He imagined not; but this assurance relieved him. It must be that Carrie had got rid of him -- as well she ought, he thought.
"A man always makes a mistake when he does anything like that," he observed.
"Like what?" said Carrie, unwitting of what was coming.
"Oh, you know," and Drouet waved her intelligence, as it were, with his hand.
"No, I don't," she answered. "What do you mean?"
"Why that affair in Chicago -- the time he left."
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Carrie. Could it be he would refer so rudely to Hurstwood's flight with her?
"Oho！" said Drouet, incredulously. "You knew he took ten thousand dollars with him when he left, didn't you?"
"What！" said Carrie. "You don't mean to say he stole money, do you?"
"Why," said Drouet, puzzled at her tone, "you knew that, didn't you?"
"Why, no," said Carrie. "Of course I didn't."
"Well, that's funny," said Drouet. "He did, you know. It was in all the papers."
"How much did you say he took?" said Carrie.
"Ten thousand dollars. I heard he sent most of it back afterwards, though."
Carrie looked vacantly at the richly carpeted floor. A new light was shining upon all the years since her enforced flight. She remembered now a hundred things that indicated as much. She also imagined that he took it on her account. Instead of hatred springing up there was a kind of sorrow generated. Poor fellow！ What a thing to have had hanging over his head all the time.
At dinner Drouet, warmed up by eating and drinking and softened in mood, fancied he was winning Carrie to her old-time good-natured regard for him. He began to imagine it would not be so difficult to enter into her life again, high as she was. Ah, what a prize！ he thought. How beautiful, how elegant, how famous！ In her theatrical and Waldorf setting, Carrie was to him the all-desirable.
"Do you remember how nervous you were that night at the Avery?" he asked.
Carrie smiled to think of it.
"I never saw anybody do better than you did then, Cad," he added ruefully, as he leaned an elbow on the table; "I thought you and I were going to get along fine those days."
"You mustn't talk that way," said Carrie, bringing in the least touch of coldness.
"Won't you let me tell you-"
"No," she answered, rising. "Besides, it's time I was getting ready for the theatre. I'll have to leave you. Come, now."
"Oh, stay a minute," pleaded Drouet. "You've got plenty of time."
"No," said Carrie, gently.
Reluctantly Drouet gave up the bright table and followed. He saw her to the elevator and, standing there, said:
"When do I see you again?"
"Oh, some time, possibly," said Carrie. "I'll be here all summer. Good-night！"
The elevator door was open.
"Good-night！" said Drouet, as she rustled in.
Then he strolled sadly down the hall, all his old longing revived, because she was now so far off. He thought himself hardly dealt with. Carrie, however, had other thoughts.
That night it was that she passed Hurstwood, waiting at the Casino, without observing him.
The next night, walking to the theatre, she encountered him face to face. He was waiting, more gaunt than ever, determined to see her, if he had to send in word. At first she did not recognise the shabby, baggy figure. He frightened her, edging so close, a seemingly hungry stranger.
"Carrie," he half whispered, "can I have a few words with you?"
She turned and recognised him on the instant. If there ever had lurked any feeling in her heart against him, it deserted her now. Still, she remembered what Drouet said about his having stolen the money.
"Why, George," she said; "what's the matter with you?"
"I've been sick," he answered. "I've just got out of the hospital. For God's sake, let me have a little money, will you?"
"Of course," said Carrie, her lip trembling in a strong effort to maintain her composure. "But what's the matter with you, anyhow?"
She was opening her purse, and now pulled out all the bills in it -- a five and two twos.
"I've been sick, I told you," he said, peevishly, almost resenting her excessive pity. It came hard to him to receive it from such a source.
"Here," she said. "It's all I have with me."
"All right," he answered, softly. "I'll give it back to you some day."
Carrie looked at him, while pedestrians stared at her. She felt the strain of publicity. So did Hurstwood.
"Why don't you tell me what's the matter with you?" she asked, hardly knowing what to do. "Where are you living?"
"Oh, I've got a room down in the Bowery," he answered. "There's no use trying to tell you here. I'm all right now."
He seemed in a way to resent her kindly inquiries -- so much better had fate dealt with her.
"Better go on in," he said. "I'm much obliged, but I won't bother you any more."
She tried to answer, but he turned away and shuffled off toward the east.
For days this apparition was a drag on her soul before it began to wear partially away. Drouet called again, but now he was not even seen by her. His attentions seemed out of place.
"I'm out," was her reply to the boy.
So peculiar, indeed, was her lonely, self-withdrawing temper, that she was becoming an interesting figure in the public eye -- she was so quiet and reserved.
Not long after the management decided to transfer the show to London. A second summer season did not seem to promise well here.
"How would you like to try subduing London?" asked her manager, one afternoon.
"It might be just the other way," said Carrie.
"I think we'll go in June," he answered.
In the hurry of departure, Hurstwood was forgotten. Both he and Drouet were left to discover that she was gone. The latter called once, and exclaimed at the news. Then he stood in the lobby, chewing the ends of his moustache. At last he reached a conclusion -- the old days had gone for good.
"She isn't so much," he said; but in his heart of hearts he did not believe this.
Hurstwood shifted by curious means through a long summer and fall. A small job as janitor of a dance hall helped him for a month. Begging, sometimes going hungry, sometimes sleeping in the park, carried him over more days. Resorting to those peculiar charities, several of which, in the press of hungry search, he accidentally stumbled upon, did the rest. Toward the dead of winter, Carrie came back, appearing on Broadway in a new play; but he was not aware of it. For weeks he wandered about the city, begging, while the fire sign, announcing her engagement, blazed nightly upon the crowded street of amusements. Drouet saw it, but did not venture in.
About this time Ames returned to New York. He had made a little success in the West, and now opened a laboratory in Wooster Street. Of course, he encountered Carrie through Mrs. Vance; but there was nothing responsive between them. He thought she was still united to Hurstwood, until otherwise informed. Not knowing the facts then, he did not profess to understand, and refrained from comment.
With Mrs. Vance, he saw the new play, and expressed himself accordingly.
"She ought not to be in comedy," he said. "I think she could do better than that."
One afternoon they met at the Vances' accidentally, and began a very friendly conversation. She could hardly tell why the one-time keen interest in him was no longer with her. Unquestionably, it was because at that time he had represented something which she did not have; but this she did not understand. Success had given her the momentary feeling that she was now blessed with much of which he would approve. As a matter of fact, her little newspaper fame was nothing at all to him. He thought she could have done better, by far.
"You didn't go into comedy-drama, after all?" he said, remembering her interest in that form of art.
"No," she answered; "I haven't, so far."
He looked at her in such a peculiar way that she realised she had failed. It moved her to add: "I want to, though."
"I should think you would," he said. "You have the sort of disposition that would do well in comedy-drama."
It surprised her that he should speak of disposition. Was she, then, so clearly in his mind?
"Why?" she asked.
"Well," he said, "I should judge you were rather sympathetic in your nature."
Carrie smiled and coloured slightly. He was so innocently frank with her that she drew nearer in friendship. The old call of the ideal was sounding.
"I don't know," she answered, pleased, nevertheless, beyond all concealment.
"I saw your play," he remarked. "It's very good."
"I'm glad you liked it."
"Very good, indeed," he said, "for a comedy."
This is all that was said at the time, owing to an interruption, but later they met again. He was sitting in a corner after dinner, staring at the floor, when Carrie came up with another of the guests. Hard work had given his face the look of one who is weary. It was not for Carrie to know the thing in it which appealed to her.
"All alone?" she said.
"I was listening to the music."
"I'll be back in a moment," said her companion, who saw nothing in the inventor.
Now he looked up in her face, for she was standing a moment, while he sat.
"Isn't that a pathetic strain?" he inquired, listening.
"Oh, very," she returned, also catching it, now that her attention was called.
"Sit down," he added, offering her the chair beside him.
They listened a few moments in silence, touched by the same feeling, only hers reached her through the heart. Music still charmed her as in the old days.
"I don't know what it is about music," she started to say, moved by the inexplicable longings which surged within her; "but it always makes me feel as if I wanted something -- I-"
"Yes," he replied; "I know how you feel."
Suddenly he turned to considering the peculiarity of her disposition, expressing her feelings so frankly.
"You ought not to be melancholy," he said.
He thought a while, and then went off into a seemingly alien observation which, however, accorded with their feelings.
"The world is full of desirable situations, but, unfortunately, we can occupy but one at a time. It doesn't do us any good to wring our hands over the far-off things."
The music ceased and he arose, taking a standing position before her, as if to rest himself.
"Why don't you get into some good, strong comedy-drama?" he said. He was looking directly at her now, studying her face. Her large, sympathetic eyes and pain-touched mouth appealed to him as proofs of his judgment.
"Perhaps I shall," she returned.
"That's your field," he added.
"Do you think so?"
"Yes," he said; "I do. I don't suppose you're aware of it, but there is something about your eyes and mouth which fits you for that sort of work."
Carrie thrilled to be taken so seriously. For the moment, loneliness deserted her. Here was praise which was keen and analytical.
"It's in your eyes and mouth," he went on abstractedly. "I remember thinking, the first time I saw you, that there was something peculiar about your mouth. I thought you were about to cry."
"How odd," said Carrie, warm with delight. This was what her heart craved.
"Then I noticed that that was your natural look, and to-night I saw it again. There's a shadow about your eyes, too, which gives your face much this same character. It's in the depth of them, I think."
Carrie looked straight into his face, wholly aroused.
"You probably are not aware of it," he added.
She looked away, pleased that he should speak thus, longing to be equal to this feeling written upon her countenance. It unlocked the door to a new desire.
She had cause to ponder over this until they met again -- several weeks or more. It showed her she was drifting away from the old ideal which had filled her in the dressing-rooms of the Avery stage and thereafter, for a long time. Why had she lost it?
"I know why you should be a success," he said, another time, "if you had a more dramatic part. I've studied it out-"
"What is it?" said Carrie.
"Well," he said, as one pleased with a puzzle, "the expression in your face is one that comes out in different things. You get the same thing in a pathetic song, or any picture which moves you deeply. It's a thing the world likes to see, because it's a natural expression of its longing."
Carrie gazed without exactly getting the import of what he meant.
"The world is always struggling to express itself," he went on. "Most people are not capable of voicing their feelings. They depend upon others. That is what genius is for. One man expresses their desires for them in music; another one in poetry; another one in a play. Sometimes nature does it in a face -- it makes the face representative of all desire. That's what has happened in your case."
He looked at her with so much of the import of the thing in his eyes that she caught it. At least, she got the idea that her look was something which represented the world's longing. She took it to heart as a creditable thing, until he added:
"That puts a burden of duty on you. It so happens that you have this thing. It is no credit to you -- that is, I mean, you might not have had it. You paid nothing to get it. But now that you have it, you must do something with it."
"What?" asked Carrie.
"I should say, turn to the dramatic field. You have so much sympathy and such a melodious voice. Make them valuable to others. It will make your powers endure."
Carrie did not understand this last. All her comedy success was little or nothing.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Why, just this. You have this quality in your eyes and mouth and in your nature. You can lose it, you know. If you turn away from it and live to satisfy yourself alone, it will go fast enough. The look will leave your eyes. Your mouth will change. Your power to act will disappear. You may think they won't, but they will. Nature takes care of that."
He was so interested in forwarding all good causes that he sometimes became enthusiastic, giving vent to these preachments. Something in Carrie appealed to him. He wanted to stir her up.
"I know," she said, absently, feeling slightly guilty of neglect.
"If I were you," he said, "I'd change."
The effect of this was like roiling helpless waters. Carrie troubled over it in her rocking-chair for days.
"I don't believe I'll stay in comedy so very much longer," she eventually remarked to Lola.
"Oh, why not?" said the latter.
"I think," she said, "I can do better in a serious play."
"What put that idea in your head?"
"Oh, nothing," she answered; "I've always thought so."
Still, she did nothing -- grieving. It was a long way to this better thing -- or seemed so -- and comfort was about her; hence the inactivity and longing.
嘉莉这次回纽约演出的一个晚上，当她快要换好装，准备回家的时候，听到后台门口传来一阵骚动声，其中有一个熟悉的声音。
鈥溑叮还叵档摹Ｎ乙蟮谴镄〗恪ｂ��
鈥溎愕孟劝衙萁ァｂ��
鈥溑叮鸬沧盼摇８恪ｂ��
递过去了半块钱，然后就听到有人敲她化妆室的门。
嘉莉开了门。
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鈥溡桓鋈烁沙瞿茄氖虑槔矗苁亲龃砹耍�澦怠�
鈥湼沙鍪裁囱氖虑椋库�澕卫蛩担恢老挛氖鞘裁础�
鈥溑叮阒赖模�澦底牛怕灏；恿嘶邮郑坪踉诒硎舅欢ㄖ赖摹�
鈥湶唬也恢溃�澦卮稹ｂ�溎阒傅氖鞘裁词拢库�濃�溹蓿褪窃谥ゼ痈绶⑸哪羌�--在他出走的时候。鈥濃�溛也幻靼啄阍谒敌┦裁矗�澕卫蛩怠Ｄ训浪崛绱宋蘩竦靥崞鸷账逛缀退黄鹚奖嫉氖侣穑�
鈥湴ビ矗♀�澏怕灏；骋傻厮怠ｂ�溎阒浪鲎叩氖焙蚰昧耍蓖蚩榍锹穑库�濃�準裁矗♀�澕卫蛩担�溎悄愕囊馑际撬邓盗饲锹穑库�濃�溹耍�澏怕灏Ｋ担运挠锲械酱蠡蟛唤猓�溎阍缇椭勒饧铝耍圆欢裕库�濃�溑叮恢溃�澕卫蛩担�溛业比徊恢馈ｂ�濃�溎蔷推婀至耍�澏怕灏Ｋ档溃�溗峭盗饲阋仓赖摹Ｋ械谋ㄖ蕉嫉橇苏馐隆ｂ��
鈥溎愀詹潘邓昧硕嗌偾库�澕卫蛭省�
鈥湥蓖蚩椤２还姨邓潞蟀汛蟛糠值那技牧嘶厝ァｂ�澕卫蛎Ｈ坏乜醋牌套藕阑靥旱牡匕濉Ｋ加眯碌难酃饪创约罕黄忍幼咧笳庑┠甑纳睢Ｋ衷诨叵肫鸷芏嗍虑槎急砻髁苏庖坏恪Ｋ瓜氲剿们俏怂Ｒ虼瞬⒚挥惺裁丛骱蓿皇且恢滞锵е橛腿欢６嗝纯闪募一铮�
这些年来他一直生活在怎样的一件事情的阴影之下埃吃饭的时候，杜洛埃吃着喝着兴奋起来，心里也有了柔情，自以为他正在使嘉莉回心转意，会像过去那样心地善良地关怀他。他开始幻想着，虽然她现在十分高贵，但要重新进入她的生活并不会太难。他想，她是多么值得争取啊！她是多么漂亮、多么优雅、多么有名啊！以舞台和沃尔多夫旅馆为背景的嘉莉，是他最最想得到的人儿。
鈥溎慊辜堑迷诎⒎鹄郴崽玫哪翘焱砩夏阌卸嗟ㄇ勇穑库�澦省�
嘉莉想起这事，笑了一下。
鈥溛掖永疵挥屑莸帽饶愕笔毖莸酶茫蔚拢�澦蒙サ夭钩渌担岩恢桓觳渤旁谧雷由稀ｂ�溛一挂晕鞘焙蚰阄一嵯啻Φ煤芎媚亍ｂ�濃�溎悴挥Ω谜庋担�澕卫蛩担谄加行├涞恕�
鈥溎隳训啦幌肴梦腋嫠吣�--鈥�
鈥湶唬�澦底耪酒鹕砝础ｂ�湺遥衷谖乙急溉ハ吩毫恕ｂ��
鈥溛也坏貌缓湍愀姹稹Ｏ衷谧甙伞ｂ��
鈥溑叮俅换岫�澏怕灏？仪蟮溃�準奔浠乖缒亍ｂ�濃�湶唬�澕卫蛭氯岬厮怠�
杜洛埃极不情愿地离开了这明亮的餐桌，跟着她走了。他陪她走到电梯门口，站在那里说：鈥溛沂裁词焙蚰茉偌侥悖库�濃�溑叮残砉┦焙虬桑�澕卫蛩担�溛艺鱿奶於荚谡饫铩�
再见！鈥�
电梯门开了。
鈥溤偌♀�澏怕灏Ｋ担克退献派成匙飨斓娜棺幼呓缣荨�
然后，他伤心地沿着走廊慢慢走着。因为她现在离他是如此遥远，他往日的一切渴望全都复苏了。这地方欢快的衣服沙沙作响的声音，难免使人想起她。他觉得自己受到了冷遇。然而，嘉莉的心里却想着别的事情。
就在那天晚上，她从等在卡西诺戏院门口的赫斯渥身边经过，却没有看见他。
第二天晚上，她步行去戏院，和赫斯渥迎面相遇。他等在那里，比以前更加憔悴。他下定了决心要见到她，即使捎话进去也要见到她。起初她没有认出这个衣衫褴褛、皮肉松弛的人。他挨得这么近，像是一个饿极了的陌生人，把她吓了一跳。
鈥溂卫颍�澦蜕担�溛夷芎湍闼导妇浠奥穑库�澦砝矗⒖倘铣隽怂＜词乖谒闹性辈刈攀裁炊运姆锤械幕埃馐币捕枷Я恕６遥辜堑枚怕灏Ｋ档乃倒氖隆�
鈥湴∴。侵危�澦担�溎阍趺蠢玻库��
鈥溛疑艘怀〔。�澦卮穑�溛腋崭沾右皆撼隼础？丛谏系鄣拿嫔希乙坏闱寐穑库�濃�湹比豢梢裕�澕卫蛩担ο氡３终蚓玻齑蕉荚诓丁ｂ�湹悄愕降自趺蠢玻库�澦蚩牙锩娴某比继土顺隼�--２张２块的，１张５块的。
鈥溛疑艘怀〔。腋嫠吖懔耍�澦缓闷厮担运墓至跫负醪嗽购蕖４诱庋桓鋈四抢锏玫搅酰顾咽芡蚍帧�
鈥湼�澦怠ｂ�溛疑肀咧挥姓饷炊嗔恕ｂ��
鈥満玫模�澦嵘卮穑�溛矣谐蝗栈峄垢愕摹ｂ�澕卫蚩醋潘稚系男腥硕荚谧⑹幼潘Ｔ谥谀款ヮブ滤械胶苣芽啊：账逛滓灿型小�
鈥溎阄裁床桓嫠呶夷憔烤故窃趺蠢玻库�澦实溃蛑辈恢绾问呛谩ｂ�溎阕≡谀睦铮库�濃�溹福以诓ㄍ锝肿饬艘桓龇考洌�澦卮穑�溤谡饫锔嫠吣阋裁挥玫摹Ｎ蚁衷谝丫昧恕ｂ�澦孟裼行┨盅崴暮眯牡难剩舜玫枚唷�
鈥溁故墙グ桑�澦担�溛液芨屑ぃ俏也换嵩倮绰榉衬愕摹ｂ�澦牖卮鹨痪洌丫碜呖献沤磐チ恕�
这个幽灵般的影子在她的心头萦绕了好多天，才开始逐渐消逝了一些。杜洛埃又来拜访，但是这一次她连见都不见他。他的殷勤似乎已经不合时宜。
鈥溛也换峥停�澦卮鸩璺俊�
她那孤僻、内向的脾气的确太特别了，使得她成了公众眼里一个引人注目的人物。她是如此的文静而矜持。
此后不久，剧团经理部决定去伦敦演出。再在这里演一个夏季看来前景并不太好。
鈥溎阍敢馊フ鞣锥芈穑库�澮惶煜挛纾砦仕�
鈥溡残碚檬锹锥卣鞣宋夷兀库�澕卫蛩怠�
鈥溛蚁胛颐墙冢对吕锒恚�澦怠�
临行匆匆，把赫斯渥给忘了。他和杜洛埃两个人都是事后才知道她已经走了。杜洛埃来拜访过一次，听到消息大叫了起来。然后，他站在门厅里，咬着胡子尖。他终于得出了结论鈥斺�敼サ娜兆右丫蝗ゲ桓捶盗恕�
鈥溗裁皇裁戳瞬黄鸬模�澦担窃谒哪谛纳畲θ床徽饷慈衔�
赫斯渥好歹通过一些稀奇古怪的方式，熬过了一个漫长的夏季和秋季。在一家舞厅干一份看门的小差使帮他度过了一个月。更多的时候他是靠乞讨过活的，有时挨饿，有时露宿公园。还有些日子，他求助于那些特殊的慈善机构，其中的几个是他在饥饿的驱使下偶然碰上的。快到隆冬的时候，嘉莉回来了，在百老汇戏院上演一出新戏，但是他并不知道。接连几个星期，他在城里流浪着，乞讨着，而有关她的演出的灯光招牌则每晚都在那条拥挤的娱乐大街上闪闪发亮。杜洛埃倒是看见了招牌，但是却没敢进去。
大约就在这个时候，艾姆斯回到了纽约。他在西部已经有了些小成就，现在在伍斯特街开办了一个实验室。当然，他通过万斯太太又遇见了嘉莉，但是在他们之间并不存在什么相互感应。他以为她还和赫斯渥生活在一起，直到听说情况不是这样。当时因为不知道事实真相，他不表示理解，也没有加以评论。
他和万斯太太一起去看了新戏，并且对演出发表了自己的意见。
鈥溗挥Ω醚萸崴上簿绲模�澦担�溛蚁胨梢匝莸帽日飧靡恍ｂ�澮惶煜挛纾桥既辉谕蛩辜蚁嘤觯愫芮兹鹊靥钙鸹袄础Ｋ蛑备悴欢约何裁床辉俦в心且欢榷运那苛业男巳ぁ：廖抟晌剩馐且蛭歉鍪焙蛩碜乓恍┧挥械亩鳎撬⒉幻靼渍庖坏恪Ｋ某晒κ顾菔本醯米约阂丫涤辛诵矶嗨嵩扌淼亩鳌Ｆ涫担诒ㄖ缴系哪堑阈∶谒蠢锤揪褪俏⒉蛔愕赖摹Ｋ衔究梢匝莸酶茫沂呛玫枚唷�
鈥溎阒站棵蝗パ菅纤嘞簿缏穑库�澦担瞧鹆怂阅侵忠帐醯陌谩�
鈥溍挥校�澦卮穑�溛抑两窕姑挥小ｂ��
他看她的目光是如此地奇特，因此她意识到自己是失败了。这使得她又补充说道：鈥湶还沂窍胙莸摹ｂ�濃�溛业挂簿醯媚慊嵴庋氲模�澦担�湴茨愕男愿瘢绻阊菅纤嘞簿缁岷艹錾摹ｂ�澦够崴档叫愿瘢饪扇盟蟪粤艘痪Ｄ敲矗睦锒运牧私庥姓饷辞宄穑�
鈥溛裁茨兀库�澦省�
鈥溑叮�澦担�溇菸铱茨愕奶煨院芨挥型樾摹ｂ�澕卫蛐α耍行┝澈炱鹄础Ｋ运钦饷刺煺妗⑻孤剩顾徊皆黾恿硕运挠岩辍Ｍ漳抢硐氲暮艋接衷谒呦炱稹�
鈥溦馕揖筒恢懒耍�澦卮鸬溃墒侨囱谑尾蛔∧谛牡南苍谩�
鈥溛铱戳四忝堑南罚�澦担�溠莸煤芎谩ｂ�濃�溛液芨咝四隳芟不丁ｂ�濃�湹娜泛芎茫担� 鈥溇颓崴上簿缍浴ｂ�澮蛭腥舜蛉牛笔彼蔷退盗苏庑呛罄此怯窒嗉恕Ｋ酝攴购笳谝桓鼋锹淅锬幼诺匕澹馐奔卫蚝土硪晃豢腿俗吡松侠础Ｐ量嗟墓ぷ魇顾牧成下冻隽似１沟纳裆＜卫蛴涝兑才幻靼渍庹帕成嫌惺裁炊魑�
鈥溡桓鋈寺穑库�澦省�
鈥溛腋詹旁谔衾帧ｂ��
鈥溛乙换岫突乩矗�澦陌槁滤担痪醯谜飧龇⒚骷矣惺裁戳瞬黄鹬Α�
这时他抬头望着她的脸，因为她已经站了一会儿，而他却坐着。
鈥溎遣皇且皇妆说那勇穑库�澦闾盼省�
鈥湴。呛鼙耍�澦卮穑衷谒⒁獾搅耍蔡顺隼础�
鈥溓胱�澦钩渌担胨谒肀叩囊巫由稀�
他们静静地听了一会儿，为同一感情所感动，只是她的感情是发自内心的。像往日一样，音乐仍旧使她陶醉。
鈥溛也恢酪衾质窃趺匆换厥拢�澦睦镉科鹫笳竽鹈畹目释獯偈顾却蚱瞥聊担�湹且衾肿苁鞘刮揖醯煤孟袢鄙傩┦裁�--我--鈥濃�準堑模�澦卮穑�溛抑滥闶窃跹芯醯摹ｂ�澩蝗唬钕氲剿男愿裾媸瞧嫣兀崛绱颂孤实乇戆鬃约旱母写ァ�
鈥溎悴挥Ω蒙烁械模�澦怠�
他想了一会儿，然后就陷入了仿佛是陌生的观察之中。不过，这和他们的感觉倒是相一致的。
鈥溦飧鍪澜绯渎肆钊讼蛲牡匚弧Ｈ欢恍业氖牵颐窃谝桓鍪焙蛑荒苷加幸桓龅匚弧Ｎ切┛赏豢杉暗亩鞫笸筇鞠⒍晕颐呛廖藓么Αｂ�澮衾滞Ｖ沽耍酒鹕砝矗谒媲巴α⒆牛袷且菹⒁幌隆�
鈥溎阄裁床蝗パ菪┖玫摹⒂辛Χ鹊难纤嘞簿缒兀库�澦怠�
现在他直视着她，仔细地打量着她的脸。她那富于同情的大眼睛和哀怨动人的嘴巴都证明他的见解是正确的，因而使他很感兴趣。
鈥溡残砦乙莸模�澦卮稹�
鈥溎遣攀悄愕谋拘校�澦钩渌怠�
鈥溎闶钦庋衔穆穑库��
鈥準堑模�澦担�溛沂钦庋衔摹Ｎ蚁肽阋残砻挥幸馐兜剑悄愕难劬妥彀陀凶拍持直砬槭鼓愫苁屎涎菽侵窒贰ｂ�澥艿饺绱巳险娴亩源卫蛞徽蠹ざＲ皇奔洌辉倬醯眉拍Ｋ衷诘玫降某圃廾羧穸挥蟹治鲂浴�
鈥溎侵直砬榫驮谀愕难劬妥彀蜕希�澦痪牡亟幼潘担�溛壹堑玫谝淮渭侥愕氖焙颍途醯媚愕淖彀秃苡行┨乇稹Ｎ一挂晕憧煲蘖四亍ｂ�濃�満闷婀郑�澕卫蛩担炖值眯朔芷鹄础Ｕ庹撬谛睦锟释亩鳌�
鈥満罄矗曳⑾终馐悄闾焐某は啵裉焱砩衔矣肿⒁獾搅苏庖坏恪Ｄ愕难劬χ芪б灿行┮跤埃鼓愕牧秤辛送奶氐恪Ｎ蚁肽鞘窃谘劬Φ纳畲Αｂ�澕卫蛑笔幼潘牧撑樱ざ蚍帧�
鈥溎阋残砻挥幸馐兜秸庖坏悖�澦钩渌怠�
她扭头望向别处，很高兴他能这么说，真希望不要辜负了她脸上天生的这种表情。这打开了一种新欲望的大门。
在他们再度相见之前，她有理由反复思考这件事--几个星期或者更久。这件事使她明白，很久以来，她离当年在阿佛莱会堂后台的化妆室里以及后来的日子里满心渴望的原来的理想是越来越远了。她为什么会丧失这个理想呢？
鈥溛抑牢裁茨隳苎莸贸晒Γ�澚硪淮危担�溨灰愕南吩僦匾恍Ｎ乙丫芯砍隼�--鈥濃�溠芯砍鍪裁矗库�澕卫蛭实馈�
鈥溑叮�澦担咝说孟袷遣鲁隽艘惶趺沼铩ｂ�溎愕拿娌勘砬槭撬孀挪煌那榭龆摹Ｄ愦由诵牡母枨蛘呷魏问鼓闵钍芨卸幕婊校蓟岬玫酵母惺堋Ｕ饩褪鞘廊硕枷不犊吹亩鳎蛭馐怯淖匀槐硐帧ｂ�澕卫虻纱笱劬ν牛⒉蝗非械孛靼姿囊馑肌�
鈥準廊俗苁钦踉乓硐肿约海�澦绦担�湺蠖嗍硕疾簧朴诒泶镒约旱母星椤Ｋ堑靡览当鹑恕Ｌ觳啪褪俏硕摹Ｓ腥擞靡衾直硐至怂堑挠挥腥擞檬枥幢硐郑换褂腥擞孟肪缋幢硐帧Ｓ惺焙蛟煳镏饔萌说拿婵桌幢硐�--用面孔来表现所有的欲望。你的情况就是这样。鈥澦醋潘劬锍渎苏饧碌暮澹顾捕昧恕�
至少，她懂得了她的面部表情是可以表现世人的欲望的。她认为这是件荣耀的事，因而牢记在心里，直到他又说：鈥溦饩鸵竽愕８浩鹨恢衷鹑巍Ｄ闱『镁哂姓庵植拍堋Ｕ獠皇悄愕娜僖业囊馑际撬担憧赡苊挥兴摹Ｕ馐悄忝挥懈冻龃劬偷美吹摹５悄阆衷诩热挥辛苏庵植拍埽陀Ω糜盟锤沙鲆环乱怠ｂ�濃�湼尚┦裁茨兀库�澕卫蛭省�
鈥溡牢铱矗较肪绶矫嫒ァＤ阏饷锤挥型樾模钟凶耪饷丛枚纳ひ簟Ｒ盟嵌员鹑擞杏谩Ｄ墙鼓愕牟拍懿恍唷ｂ�澕卫蛎惶庾詈蟮囊痪浠啊Ｆ溆嗟幕霸蚴窃诟嫠咚萸崴上簿绲某晒Σ⒚挥惺裁创蟛涣说模蛘吒揪褪俏⒉蛔愕馈�
鈥溎闼档氖鞘裁匆馑迹库�澦省�
鈥溹蓿褪钦飧觥Ｄ愕难劬妥彀停褂心愕奶煨远季哂姓庵植拍堋Ｄ慊崾ニ模饽阋仓溃热裟悴辉擞盟钭胖皇俏寺阕约海敲此芸炀突嵯АＤ愕难劬崾愕淖彀突岜溲愕谋硌菽芰峄谟小Ｄ阋残砣衔遣换嵯В撬腔岬摹Ｕ飧鲈煳镏髯曰岚才拧ｂ�澦绱巳戎杂谔岢龊玫囊饧惺焙蛏踔炼急涞萌惹檠笠缙鹄矗谑蔷退盗苏饷匆淮笸ǖ览怼Ｋ不都卫蛏砩系哪持侄鳌Ｋ爰だ幌隆�
鈥溛抑溃�澦牟辉谘傻厮担宰约旱氖韬龈械接械隳诰巍�
鈥溔绻沂悄愕幕埃�澦担�溛一岣男械摹ｂ�澱夥富霸诩卫蛏砩喜男в拖袷墙粱炝宋拗乃顾饺恍穆摇＜卫蜃谝∫卫铮馐驴嗨稼は肓撕眉柑臁�
鈥溛蚁胛已萸崴上簿绲娜兆硬换崽昧耍�澦沼诙月芾怠�
鈥溑叮裁茨兀库�澓笳呶省�
鈥溛蚁耄�澦担�溛已菅纤嘞肪缈梢匝莸酶靡恍ｂ�濃�準裁词虑槭鼓阏饷聪氲模库�濃�溑叮挥惺裁矗�澦卮稹ｂ�溛乙恢倍加姓飧鱿敕āｂ�澘墒牵⒉徊扇∈裁葱卸皇窃诜⒊睢Ｒ敫烧飧靡恍┑氖虑槁吠净乖蹲拍�--或者看起来还很远--而她已经是在养尊处优了，因此她只有渴望而没有行动。
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