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- Стр. 86/524
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You
had
not
tried
before
you
failed
.
”
It
was
when
Carrie
was
alone
,
looking
out
across
the
park
,
that
she
would
be
listening
to
this
.
It
would
come
infrequently
—
when
something
else
did
not
interfere
,
when
the
pleasant
side
was
not
too
apparent
,
when
Drouet
was
not
there
.
It
was
somewhat
clear
in
utterance
at
first
,
but
never
wholly
convincing
.
There
was
always
an
answer
,
always
the
December
days
threatened
.
She
was
alone
;
she
was
desireful
;
she
was
fearful
of
the
whistling
wind
.
The
voice
of
want
made
answer
for
her
.
Once
the
bright
days
of
summer
pass
by
,
a
city
takes
on
that
sombre
garb
of
grey
,
wrapt
in
which
it
goes
about
its
labours
during
the
long
winter
.
Its
endless
buildings
look
grey
,
its
sky
and
its
streets
assume
a
sombre
hue
;
the
scattered
,
leafless
trees
and
wind
-
blown
dust
and
paper
but
add
to
the
general
solemnity
of
colour
.
There
seems
to
be
something
in
the
chill
breezes
which
scurry
through
the
long
,
narrow
thoroughfares
productive
of
rueful
thoughts
.
Not
poets
alone
,
nor
artists
,
nor
that
superior
order
of
mind
which
arrogates
to
itself
all
refinement
,
feel
this
,
but
dogs
and
all
men
.
These
feel
as
much
as
the
poet
,
though
they
have
not
the
same
power
of
expression
.
The
sparrow
upon
the
wire
,
the
cat
in
the
doorway
,
the
dray
horse
tugging
his
weary
load
,
feel
the
long
,
keen
breaths
of
winter
.
It
strikes
to
the
heart
of
all
life
,
animate
and
inanimate
.
If
it
were
not
for
the
artificial
fires
of
merriment
,
the
rush
of
profit
-
seeking
trade
,
and
pleasure
-
selling
amusements
;
if
the
various
merchants
failed
to
make
the
customary
display
within
and
without
their
establishments
;
if
our
streets
were
not
strung
with
signs
of
gorgeous
hues
and
thronged
with
hurrying
purchasers
,
we
would
quickly
discover
how
firmly
the
chill
hand
of
winter
lays
upon
the
heart
;
how
dispiriting
are
the
days
during
which
the
sun
withholds
a
portion
of
our
allowance
of
light
and
warmth
.
We
are
more
dependent
upon
these
things
than
is
often
thought
.
We
are
insects
produced
by
heat
,
and
pass
without
it
.
In
the
drag
of
such
a
grey
day
the
secret
voice
would
reassert
itself
,
feebly
and
more
feebly
.
Such
mental
conflict
was
not
always
uppermost
.
Carrie
was
not
by
any
means
a
gloomy
soul
.
More
,
she
had
not
the
mind
to
get
firm
hold
upon
a
definite
truth
.
When
she
could
not
find
her
way
out
of
the
labyrinth
of
ill
-
logic
which
thought
upon
the
subject
created
,
she
would
turn
away
entirely
.
Drouet
,
all
the
time
,
was
conducting
himself
in
a
model
way
for
one
of
his
sort
.
He
took
her
about
a
great
deal
,
spent
money
upon
her
,
and
when
he
travelled
took
her
with
him
.
There
were
times
when
she
would
be
alone
for
two
or
three
days
,
while
he
made
the
shorter
circuits
of
his
business
,
but
,
as
a
rule
,
she
saw
a
great
deal
of
him
.
“
Say
,
Carrie
,
”
he
said
one
morning
,
shortly
after
they
had
so
established
themselves
,
“
I
’
ve
invited
my
friend
Hurstwood
to
come
out
some
day
and
spend
the
evening
with
us
.
”
“
Who
is
he
?
”
asked
Carrie
doubtfully
.
“
Oh
,
he
’
s
a
nice
man
.
He
’
s
manager
of
Fitzgerald
and
Moy
’
s
.
