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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Сестра Керри
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- Стр. 513/524
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For
the
most
part
there
was
silence
;
gaunt
men
shuffling
,
glancing
,
and
beating
their
arms
.
At
last
the
door
opened
and
the
motherly
-
looking
sister
appeared
.
She
only
looked
an
order
.
Slowly
the
line
moved
up
and
,
one
by
one
,
passed
in
,
until
twenty
-
five
were
counted
.
Then
she
interposed
a
stout
arm
,
and
the
line
halted
,
with
six
men
on
the
steps
.
Of
these
the
ex
-
manager
was
one
.
Waiting
thus
,
some
talked
,
some
ejaculated
concerning
the
misery
of
it
;
some
brooded
,
as
did
Hurstwood
.
At
last
he
was
admitted
,
and
,
having
eaten
,
came
away
,
almost
angered
because
of
his
pains
in
getting
it
.
At
eleven
o
’
clock
of
another
evening
,
perhaps
two
weeks
later
,
he
was
at
the
midnight
offering
of
a
loaf
—
waiting
patiently
.
It
had
been
an
unfortunate
day
with
him
,
but
now
he
took
his
fate
with
a
touch
of
philosophy
.
If
he
could
secure
no
supper
,
or
was
hungry
late
in
the
evening
,
here
was
a
place
he
could
come
.
A
few
minutes
before
twelve
,
a
great
box
of
bread
was
pushed
out
,
and
exactly
on
the
hour
a
portly
,
round
-
faced
German
took
position
by
it
,
calling
“
Ready
.
”
The
whole
line
at
once
moved
forward
each
taking
his
loaf
in
turn
and
going
his
separate
way
.
On
this
occasion
,
the
ex
-
manager
ate
his
as
he
went
plodding
the
dark
streets
in
silence
to
his
bed
.
By
January
he
had
about
concluded
that
the
game
was
up
with
him
.
Life
had
always
seemed
a
precious
thing
,
but
now
constant
want
and
weakened
vitality
had
made
the
charms
of
earth
rather
dull
and
inconspicuous
.
Several
times
,
when
fortune
pressed
most
harshly
,
he
thought
he
would
end
his
troubles
;
but
with
a
change
of
weather
,
or
the
arrival
of
a
quarter
or
a
dime
,
his
mood
would
change
,
and
he
would
wait
.
Each
day
he
would
find
some
old
paper
lying
about
and
look
into
it
,
to
see
if
there
was
any
trace
of
Carrie
,
but
all
summer
and
fall
he
had
looked
in
vain
.
Then
he
noticed
that
his
eyes
were
beginning
to
hurt
him
,
and
this
ailment
rapidly
increased
until
,
in
the
dark
chambers
of
the
lodgings
he
frequented
,
he
did
not
attempt
to
read
.
Bad
and
irregular
eating
was
weakening
every
function
of
his
body
.
The
one
recourse
left
him
was
to
doze
when
a
place
offered
and
he
could
get
the
money
to
occupy
it
.
He
was
beginning
to
find
,
in
his
wretched
clothing
and
meagre
state
of
body
,
that
people
took
him
for
a
chronic
type
of
bum
and
beggar
.
Police
hustled
him
along
,
restaurant
and
lodging
-
house
keepers
turned
him
out
promptly
the
moment
he
had
his
due
;
pedestrians
waved
him
off
.
He
found
it
more
and
more
difficult
to
get
anything
from
anybody
.
At
last
he
admitted
to
himself
that
the
game
was
up
.
It
was
after
a
long
series
of
appeals
to
pedestrians
,
in
which
he
had
been
refused
and
refused
—
every
one
hastening
from
contact
.
“
Give
me
a
little
something
,
will
you
,
mister
?
”
he
said
to
the
last
one
.
“
For
God
’
s
sake
,
do
;
I
’
m
starving
.
”
“
Aw
,
get
out
,
”
said
the
man
,
who
happened
to
be
a
common
type
himself
.
“
You
’
re
no
good
.
I
’
ll
give
you
nawthin
’
.
”
