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第7章 凉凉夜色为你思念成河

　　Carrie listened most good-naturedly.

　　People in general attach too much importance to words. They areunder the illusion that talking effects great results. As amatter of fact, words are, as a rule, the shallowest portion ofall the argument. They but dimly represent the great surgingfeelings and desires which lie behind. When the distraction ofthe tongue is removed, the heart listens.

　　"She just feels a little curious, I guess," ventured Minnie."Everything is so new."

　　"Yes," said Carrie. "You must come down and see me some time."

　　"Oh, oh," she said, "she doesn't know what she has done."

　　"You will excuse me for intruding," he said; "but have you beenthinking of changing your apartments?"

　　"Well, you don't have to," he said. "He can't get what he can'tget. He'll have to wait."

　　In the same house with her lived an official of one of thetheatres, Mr. Frank A. Hale, manager of the Standard, and hiswife, a pleasing-looking brunette of thirty-five. They werepeople of a sort very common in America today, who liverespectably from hand to mouth. Hale received a salary of forty-five dollars a week. His wife, quite attractive, affected thefeeling of youth, and objected to that sort of home life whichmeans the care of a house and the raising of a family. LikeDrouet and Carrie, they also occupied three rooms on the floorabove.

　　"George!" exclaimed Hurstwood, weakly, "this is too much for me."