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Let
s
stop
in
and
have
a
rarebit
,
he
suggested
one
midnight
.
Very
well
,
said
Carrie
.
In
the
rosy
restaurant
,
filled
with
the
merry
lovers
of
late
hours
,
she
found
herself
criticising
this
man
.
He
was
too
stilted
,
too
self
-
opinionated
.
He
did
not
talk
of
anything
that
lifted
her
above
the
common
run
of
clothes
and
material
success
.
When
it
was
all
over
,
he
smiled
most
graciously
.
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Got
to
go
straight
home
,
have
you
?
he
said
.
Yes
,
she
answered
,
with
an
air
of
quiet
understanding
.
She
s
not
so
inexperienced
as
she
looks
,
he
thought
,
and
thereafter
his
respect
and
ardour
were
increased
.
She
could
not
help
sharing
in
Lola
s
love
for
a
good
time
.
There
were
days
when
they
went
carriage
riding
,
nights
when
after
the
show
they
dined
,
afternoons
when
they
strolled
along
Broadway
,
tastefully
dressed
.
She
was
getting
in
the
metropolitan
whirl
of
pleasure
.
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At
last
her
picture
appeared
in
one
of
the
weeklies
.
She
had
not
known
of
it
,
and
it
took
her
breath
.
Miss
Carrie
Madenda
,
it
was
labelled
.
One
of
the
favourites
of
The
Wives
of
Abdul
company
.
At
Lola
s
advice
she
had
had
some
pictures
taken
by
Sarony
.
They
had
got
one
there
.
She
thought
of
going
down
and
buying
a
few
copies
of
the
paper
,
but
remembered
that
there
was
no
one
she
knew
well
enough
to
send
them
to
.
Only
Lola
,
apparently
,
in
all
the
world
was
interested
.
The
metropolis
is
a
cold
place
socially
,
and
Carrie
soon
found
that
a
little
money
brought
her
nothing
.
The
world
of
wealth
and
distinction
was
quite
as
far
away
as
ever
.
She
could
feel
that
there
was
no
warm
,
sympathetic
friendship
back
of
the
easy
merriment
with
which
many
approached
her
.
All
seemed
to
be
seeking
their
own
amusement
,
regardless
of
the
possible
sad
consequence
to
others
.
So
much
for
the
lessons
of
Hurstwood
and
Drouet
.