Nothing came of this until after the Brooklyn adventure of Hurstwood's and her success with the speaking part.Then she began to feel as if she must be free.She thought of leaving Hurstwood and thus making him act for himself, but he had developed such peculiar traits she feared he might resist any effort to throw him off.He might hunt her out at the show and hound her in that way.She did not wholly believe that he would, but he might.This, she knew, would be an embarrassing thing if he made himself conspicuous in any way.It troubled her greatly.
Things were precipitated by the offer of a better part.One of the actresses playing the part of a modest sweetheart gave notice of leaving and Carrie was selected.
"How much are you going to get?" asked Miss Osborne, on hearing the good news.
"I didn't ask him," said Carrie.
"Well, find out.Goodness, you'll never get anything if you don't ask.Tell them you must have forty dollars, anyhow."
"Oh, no," said Carrie.
"Certainly!" exclaimed Lola."Ask 'em, anyway."
Carrie succumbed to this prompting, waiting, however, until the manager gave her notice of what clothing she must have to fit the part.
"How much do I get?" she inquired.
"Thirty-five dollars," he replied.
Carrie was too much astonished and delighted to think of mentioning forty.She was nearly beside herself, and almost hugged Lola, who clung to her at the news.
"It isn't as much as you ought to get," said the latter, "especially when you've got to buy clothes."
Carrie remembered this with a start.Where to get the money? She had none laid up for such an emergency.Rent day was drawing near.
"I'll not do it," she said, remembering her necessity."I don't use the flat.I'm not going to give up my money this time.I'll move."
Fitting into this came another appeal from Miss Osborne, more urgent than ever.
"Come live with me, won't you?" she pleaded."We can have the loveliest room.It won't cost you hardly anything that way."
"I'd like to," said Carrie, frankly.
"Oh, do," said Lola."We'll have such a good time."
Carrie thought a while.
"I believe I will," she said, and then added: "I'll have to see first, though."
With the idea thus grounded, rent day approaching, and clothes calling for instant purchase, she soon found excuse in Hurstwood's lassitude.He said less and drooped more than ever.
As rent day approached, an idea grew in him.It was fostered by the demands of creditors and the impossibility of holding up many more.Twenty-eight dollars was too much for rent."It's hard on her," he thought."We could get a cheaper place."
Stirred with this idea, he spoke at the breakfast table.
"Don't you think we pay too much rent here?" he asked.
"Indeed I do," said Carrie, not catching his drift.
"I should think we could get a smaller place," he suggested."We don't need four rooms."
Her countenance, had he been scrutinising her, would have exhibited the disturbance she felt at this evidence of his determination to stay by her.He saw nothing remarkable in asking her to come down lower.
"Oh, I don't know," she answered, growing wary.
"There must be places around here where we could get a couple of rooms, which would do just as well."
Her heart revolted."Never!" she thought.Who would furnish the money to move? To think of being in two rooms with him! She resolved to spend her money for clothes quickly, before something terrible happened.That very day she did it.Having done so, there was but one other thing to do.
"Lola," she said, visiting her friend, "I think I'll come."
"Oh, jolly!" cried the latter.
"Can we get it right away?" she asked, meaning the room.
"Certainly," cried Lola.
They went to look at it.Carrie had saved ten dollars from her expenditures--enough for this and her board beside.Her enlarged salary would not begin for ten days yet--would not reach her for seventeen.She paid half of the six dollars with her friend.
"Now, I've just enough to get on to the end of the week," she confided.
"Oh, I've got some," said Lola."I've got twenty-five dollars, if you need it."
"No," said Carrie."I guess I'll get along."
They decided to move Friday, which was two days away.Now that the thing was settled, Carrie's heart misgave her.She felt very much like a criminal in the matter.Each day looking at Hurstwood, she had realised that, along with the disagreeableness of his attitude, there was something pathetic.
She looked at him the same evening she had made up her mind to go, and now he seemed not so shiftless and worthless, but run down and beaten upon by chance.His eyes were not keen, his face marked, his hands flabby.She thought his hair had a touch of grey.All unconscious of his doom, he rocked and read his paper, while she glanced at him.
Knowing that the end was so near, she became rather solicitous.
"Will you go over and get some canned peaches?" she asked Hurstwood, laying down a two-dollar bill.
"Certainly," he said, looking in wonder at the money.
"See if you can get some nice asparagus," she added."I'll cook it for dinner."
Hurstwood rose and took the money, slipping on his overcoat and getting his hat.Carrie noticed that both of these articles of apparel were old and poor looking in appearance.It was plain enough before, but now it came home with peculiar force.Perhaps he couldn't help it, after all.He had done well in Chicago.
She remembered his fine appearance the days he had met her in the park.Then he was so sprightly, so clean.Had it been all his fault?
He came back and laid the change down with the food.
"You'd better keep it," she observed."We'll need other things."
"No," he said, with a sort of pride; "you keep it."
"Oh, go on and keep it," she replied, rather unnerved."There'll be other things."
He wondered at this, not knowing the pathetic figure he had become in her eyes.She restrained herself with difficulty from showing a quaver in her voice.
To say truly, this would have been Carrie's attitude in any case.