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"Grand Central Station!" called the trainman, as, after a few
minutes of darkness and smoke, daylight reappeared. Hurstwood
arose and gathered up his small grip. He was screwed up to the
highest tension. With Carrie he waited at the door and then
dismounted. No one approached him, but he glanced furtively to
and fro as he made for the street entrance. So excited was he that
he forgot all about Carrie, who fell behind, wondering at his self-
absorption. As he passed through the depot proper the strain
reached its climax and began to wane. All at once he was on the
sidewalk, and none but cabmen hailed him. He heaved a great
breath and turned, remembering Carrie.
"I thought you were going to run off and leave me," she said.
"I was trying remember which car takes us to the Gilsey," he
Carrie hardly heard him, so interested was she in the busy scene.
"How large is New York?" she asked.
"Oh, a million or more," said Hurstwood.
He looked around and hailed a cab, but he did so in a changed
For the first time in years the thought that he must count these
little expenses flashed through his mind. It was a disagreeable
He decided he would lose no time living in hotels but would rent a
flat. Accordingly he told Carrie, and she agreed.
"We’ll look to-day, if you want to," she said.
Suddenly he thought of his experience in Montreal. At the more
important hotels he would be certain to meet Chicagoans whom
he knew. He stood up and spoke to the driver.
"Take me to the Belford," he said, knowing it to be less
frequented by those whom he knew. Then he sat down.
"Where is the residence part?" asked Carrie, who did not take the
tall five-story walls on either hand to be the abodes of families.
"Everywhere," said Hurstwood, who knew the city fairly well.
"There are no lawns in New York. All these are houses."
"Well, then, I don’t like it," said Carrie, who was coming to have
a few opinions of her own.