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- Теодор Драйзер
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There
was
one
line
being
laid
out
to
within
a
few
blocks
of
his
new
home
--
the
Seventeenth
and
Nineteenth
Street
line
it
was
called
--
which
interested
him
greatly
.
He
rode
on
it
occasionally
when
he
was
delayed
or
did
not
wish
to
trouble
about
a
vehicle
.
It
ran
through
two
thriving
streets
of
red-brick
houses
,
and
was
destined
to
have
a
great
future
once
the
city
grew
large
enough
.
As
yet
it
was
really
not
long
enough
.
If
he
could
get
that
,
for
instance
,
and
combine
it
with
Butler
's
lines
,
once
they
were
secured
--
or
Mollenhauer
's
,
or
Simpson
's
,
the
legislature
could
be
induced
to
give
them
additional
franchises
.
He
even
dreamed
of
a
combination
between
Butler
,
Mollenhauer
,
Simpson
,
and
himself
.
Between
them
,
politically
,
they
could
get
anything
.
But
Butler
was
not
a
philanthropist
.
He
would
have
to
be
approached
with
a
very
sizable
bird
in
hand
.
The
combination
must
be
obviously
advisable
.
Besides
,
he
was
dealing
for
Butler
in
street-railway
stocks
,
and
if
this
particular
line
were
such
a
good
thing
Butler
might
wonder
why
it
had
not
been
brought
to
him
in
the
first
place
.
It
would
be
better
,
Frank
thought
,
to
wait
until
he
actually
had
it
as
his
own
,
in
which
case
it
would
be
a
different
matter
.
Then
he
could
talk
as
a
capitalist
.
He
began
to
dream
of
a
city-wide
street-railway
system
controlled
by
a
few
men
,
or
preferably
himself
alone
.
The
days
that
had
been
passing
brought
Frank
Cowperwood
and
Aileen
Butler
somewhat
closer
together
in
spirit
.
Because
of
the
pressure
of
his
growing
affairs
he
had
not
paid
so
much
attention
to
her
as
he
might
have
,
but
he
had
seen
her
often
this
past
year
.
She
was
now
nineteen
and
had
grown
into
some
subtle
thoughts
of
her
own
.
For
one
thing
,
she
was
beginning
to
see
the
difference
between
good
taste
and
bad
taste
in
houses
and
furnishings
.
"
Papa
,
why
do
we
stay
in
this
old
barn
?
"
she
asked
her
father
one
evening
at
dinner
,
when
the
usual
family
group
was
seated
at
the
table
.
"
What
's
the
matter
with
this
house
,
I
'd
like
to
know
?
"
demanded
Butler
,
who
was
drawn
up
close
to
the
table
,
his
napkin
tucked
comfortably
under
his
chin
,
for
he
insisted
on
this
when
company
was
not
present
.
"
I
do
n't
see
anything
the
matter
with
this
house
.
Your
mother
and
I
manage
to
live
in
it
well
enough
.
"
"
Oh
,
it
's
terrible
,
papa
.
You
know
it
,
"
supplemented
Norah
,
who
was
seventeen
and
quite
as
bright
as
her
sister
,
though
a
little
less
experienced
.
"
Everybody
says
so
.
Look
at
all
the
nice
houses
that
are
being
built
everywhere
about
here
.
"
"
Everybody
!
Everybody
!
Who
is
'
everybody
,
'
I
'd
like
to
know
?
"
demanded
Butler
,
with
the
faintest
touch
of
choler
and
much
humor
.
"
I
'm
somebody
,
and
I
like
it
.
Those
that
do
n't
like
it
do
n't
have
to
live
in
it
.
Who
are
they
?
What
's
the
matter
with
it
,
I
'd
like
to
know
?
"
The
question
in
just
this
form
had
been
up
a
number
of
times
before
,
and
had
been
handled
in
just
this
manner
,
or
passed
over
entirely
with
a
healthy
Irish
grin
.
To-night
,
however
,
it
was
destined
for
a
little
more
extended
thought
.
"
You
know
it
's
bad
,
papa
,
"
corrected
Aileen
,
firmly
.
"
Now
what
's
the
use
getting
mad
about
it
?
It
's
old
and
cheap
and
dingy
.
The
furniture
is
all
worn
out
.
That
old
piano
in
there
ought
to
be
given
away
.
I
wo
n't
play
on
it
any
more
.
The
Cowperwoods
--
"
"
Old
is
it
!
"
exclaimed
Butler
,
his
accent
sharpening
somewhat
with
his
self-induced
rage
.
He
almost
pronounced
it
"
owled
.
"
"
Dingy
,
hi
!
Where
do
you
get
that
?
At
your
convent
,
I
suppose
.
And
where
is
it
worn
?
Show
me
where
it
's
worn
.
"
