In Carrie-as in how many of our wordings do they not?-instinct and reason, desire and understanding, were at war for the mastery.  She followed whither her craving led.  She was as yet more drawn than she drew.

When Minnie found the note next morning, after a night of mingled wonder and anxiety, which was not exactly touched by yearning, sorrow, or love, she exclaimed: 

" Well, what do you think of that?”

" What?” said Hanson.

" Sister Carrie has gone to live somewhere else.”

Hanson jumped out of bed with more celerity than he usually displayed and looked at the note.  The only indication of his thoughts came in the form of a little clicking sound made by his tongue; the sound some people make when they wish to urge on a horse.

" Where do you suppose she’s gone to?” said Minnie thoroughly aroused.

" I don’t know,” a touch of cynicism lighting his eye.

" Now she has gone and done it.”

Minnie moved her head in a puzzled way.

" Oh, oh,” she said, " she doesn’t know what she has done.”

" Well,” said Hanson after a while, sticking his hands out before him, " what can you do?”

Minnie’s womanly nature was higher than this.  She figured the possibilities in such cases.

" Oh,” she said at least, " poor Sister Carrie!”

At the time of this particular conversation, which occurred at 5 am, that little soldier of fortune was sleeping in rather troubled sleep in her new room, alone.

Carrie’s new state was remarkable in that she saw possibilities in it.  She was no sensualist, longing to drowse sleepily in the lap of luxury.  She turned about, troubled by her daring, glad of her release, wondering whether she would get something to do, wondering what Drouet would do.  That worthy had his future fixed for him beyond a peradventure.  He could not see clearly enough to wish to do differently.  He was drawn by his innate desire to act the old pursuing part.  He would need to delight himself with Carrie as surely as he would need to eat his heavy breakfast.  He might suffer the least rudimentary twinge of conscience in whatever he did, and in just so far he was evil and sinning.  But whatever twinges of conscience he might have would be rudimentary, you may be sure.

The next day he called upon Carrie, and she saw him in her chamber.  He was the same jolly, enlivening soul.

" Aw,” he said, " what are you looking so blue about?  Come on out to breakfast.  You want to get your other clothes to-day.”

Carrie looked at him with the hew of shifting thought in her large eyes.

" I wish I could get something to do,” she said.

" You’ll get that all right,” said Drouet. " What’s the use worrying right now?  Get yourself fixed up.  See the city.  I won’t hurt you.”

" I know you won’t,” she remarked, half truthfully.

" Got on the new shoes, haven’t you?  Stick ’em out George, they look fine.  Put on your jacket.”