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- Теодор Драйзер
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The
information
went
in
one
ear
of
Lola
and
out
the
other
.
After
Drouet
and
Hurstwood
,
there
was
the
least
touch
of
cynicism
in
her
attitude
toward
young
men
—
especially
of
the
gay
and
frivolous
sort
.
She
felt
a
little
older
than
they
.
Some
of
their
pretty
compliments
seemed
silly
.
Still
,
she
was
young
in
heart
and
body
and
youth
appealed
to
her
.
“
Oh
,
we
’
ll
be
right
back
,
Miss
Madenda
,
”
said
one
of
the
chaps
,
bowing
.
“
You
wouldn
’
t
think
we
’
d
keep
you
over
time
,
now
,
would
you
?
”
“
Well
,
I
don
’
t
know
,
”
said
Carrie
,
smiling
.
They
were
off
for
a
drive
—
she
,
looking
about
and
noticing
fine
clothing
,
the
young
men
voicing
those
silly
pleasantries
and
weak
quips
which
pass
for
humour
in
coy
circles
.
Carrie
saw
the
great
park
parade
of
carriages
,
beginning
at
the
Fifty
-
ninth
Street
entrance
and
winding
past
the
Museum
of
Art
to
the
exit
at
One
Hundred
and
Tenth
Street
and
Seventh
Avenue
.
Her
eye
was
once
more
taken
by
the
show
of
wealth
—
the
elaborate
costumes
,
elegant
harnesses
,
spirited
horses
,
and
,
above
all
,
the
beauty
.
Once
more
the
plague
of
poverty
galled
her
,
but
now
she
forgot
in
a
measure
her
own
troubles
so
far
as
to
forget
Hurstwood
.
He
waited
until
four
,
five
,
and
even
six
.
It
was
getting
dark
when
he
got
up
out
of
his
chair
.
“
I
guess
she
isn
’
t
coming
home
,
”
he
said
,
grimly
.
“
That
’
s
the
way
,
”
he
thought
.
“
She
’
s
getting
a
start
now
.
I
’
m
out
of
it
.
”
Carrie
had
really
discovered
her
neglect
,
but
only
at
a
quarter
after
five
,
and
the
open
carriage
was
now
far
up
Seventh
Avenue
,
near
the
Harlem
River
.
“
What
time
is
it
?
”
she
inquired
.
“
I
must
be
getting
back
.
”
“
A
quarter
after
five
,
”
said
her
companion
,
consulting
an
elegant
,
open
-
faced
watch
.
