"Yes, you did," she said.。， "I'm out of work and out of money and I've got to get something,--it doesn't matter what. I don't care to talk about what I'vebeen, but if you'd tell me how to get something to do, I'd bemuch obliged to you. It wouldn't matter if it only lasted a fewdays just now. I've got to have something."
"Well, by foolishness of my own. It isn't anything to talk aboutnow. You could find out if you wanted to. I'm 'broke' now and,if you will believe me, I haven't eaten anything to-day."。， Playing in New York one evening on this her return, Carrie wasputting the finishing touches to her toilet before leaving forthe night, when a commotion near the stage door caught her ear.It included a familiar voice.
Suddenly he turned to considering the peculiarity of herdisposition, expressing her feelings so frankly.。， This unique individual was no less than an ex-soldier turnedreligionist, who, having suffered the whips and privations of ourpeculiar social system, had concluded that his duty to the Godwhich he conceived lay in aiding his fellow-man. The form of aidwhich he chose to administer was entirely original with himself.It consisted of securing a bed for all such homeless wayfarers asshould apply to him at this particular spot, though he hadscarcely the wherewithal to provide a comfortable habitation forhimself. Taking his place amid this lightsome atmosphere, hewould stand, his stocky figure cloaked in a great cape overcoat,his head protected by a broad slouch hat, awaiting the applicantswho had in various ways learned the nature of his charity. For awhile he would stand alone, gazing like any idler upon an ever-fascinating scene. On the evening in question, a policemanpassing saluted him as "captain," in a friendly way. An urchinwho had frequently seen him before, stopped to gaze. All otherstook him for nothing out of the ordinary, save in the matter ofdress, and conceived of him as a stranger whistling and idlingfor his own amusement.
。， It was truly a wintry evening, a few days later, when his onedistinct mental decision was reached. Already, at four o'clock,the sombre hue of night was thickening the air. A heavy snow wasfalling--a fine picking, whipping snow, borne forward by a swiftwind in long, thin lines. The streets were bedded with it--sixinches of cold, soft carpet, churned to a dirty brown by thecrush of teams and the feet of men. Along Broadway men pickedtheir way in ulsters and umbrellas. Along the Bowery, menslouched through it with collars and hats pulled over their ears.In the former thoroughfare businessmen and travellers were makingfor comfortable hotels. In the latter, crowds on cold errandsshifted past dingy stores, in the deep recesses of which lightswere already gleaming. There were early lights in the cablecars, whose usual clatter was reduced by the mantle about thewheels. The whole city was muffled by this fast-thickeningmantle.