than up, to her lover. She did not fully realise that this was
so, but there was something in condescension coming from her
which was infinitely sweet. When she was ready they climbed into
the waiting coach and drove down town; once, only, did she find
an opportunity to express her feeling, and that was when the
manager preceded Drouet in the coach and sat beside her. Before
Drouet was fully in she had squeezed Hurstwood's hand in a
gentle, impulsive manner. The manager was beside himself with
affection. He could have sold his soul to be with her alone.
"Ah," he thought, "the agony of it."

Drouet hung on, thinking he was all in all. The dinner was
spoiled by his enthusiasm. Hurstwood went home feeling as if he
should die if he did not find affectionate relief. He whispered
"to-morrow" passionately to Carrie, and she understood. He
walked away from the drummer and his prize at parting feeling as
if he could slay him and not regret. Carrie also felt the misery
of it.

"Good-night," he said, simulating an easy friendliness.

"Good-night," said the little actress, tenderly.

"The fool!" he said, now hating Drouet. "The idiot! I'll do him
yet, and that quick! We'll see to-morrow."

"Well, if you aren't a wonder," Drouet was saying, complacently,
squeezing Carrie's arm. "You are the dandiest little girl on
earth."