"No," said Carrie, gently.。， At last the door opened and the motherly-looking sister appeared.She only looked an order. Slowly the line moved up and, one byone, passed in, until twenty-five were counted. Then sheinterposed a stout arm, and the line halted, with six men on thesteps. Of these the ex-manager was one. Waiting thus, sometalked, some ejaculated concerning the misery of it; somebrooded, as did Hurstwood. At last he was admitted, and, havingeaten, came away, almost angered because of his pains in gettingit.
Drouet abandoned his claim and was seen no more. Of Hurstwood'sdeath she was not even aware. A slow, black boat setting outfrom the pier at Twenty-seventh Street upon its weekly errandbore, with many others, his nameless body to the Potter's Field.。，
This is all that was said at the time, owing to an interruption,but later they met again. He was sitting in a corner afterdinner, staring at the floor, when Carrie came up with another ofthe guests. Hard work had given his face the look of one who isweary. It was not for Carrie to know the thing in it whichappealed to her.。，
Oh, Carrie, Carrie! Oh, blind strivings of the human heart!Onward onward, it saith, and where beauty leads, there itfollows. Whether it be the tinkle of a lone sheep bell o'er somequiet landscape, or the glimmer of beauty in sylvan places, orthe show of soul in some passing eye, the heart knows and makesanswer, following. It is when the feet weary and hope seems vainthat the heartaches and the longings arise. Know, then, that foryou is neither surfeit nor content. In your rocking-chair, byyour window dreaming, shall you long, alone. In your rocking-chair, by your window, shall you dream such happiness as you maynever feel.。， "Well, come on and have a talk, then, anyhow."
And now Carrie had attained that which in the beginning seemedlife's object, or, at least, such fraction of it as human beingsever attain of their original desires. She could look about onher gowns and carriage, her furniture and bank account. Friendsthere were, as the world takes it--those who would bow and smilein acknowledgment of her success. For these she had once craved.Applause there was, and publicity--once far off, essentialthings, but now grown trivial and indifferent. Beauty also--hertype of loveliness--and yet she was lonely. In her rocking-chairshe sat, when not otherwise engaged--singing and dreaming.。，