“Well, I know that I didn’t tell you any such thing as that,” said Carrie, recovering herself.
“If I were you,” went on Drouet, ignoring her last remark, “I wouldn’t have anything to do with him. He’s a married man, you know.”
“Who—who is?” said Carrie, stumbling at the word.
“Why, Hurstwood,” said Drouet, noting the effect and feeling that he was delivering a telling blow.
“Hurstwood!” exclaimed Carrie, rising. Her face had changed several shades since this announcement was made. She looked within and without herself in a half-dazed way.
“Who told you this?” she asked, forgetting that her interest was out of order and exceedingly incriminating.
“Why, I know it. I’ve always known it,” said Drouet.
Carrie was feeling about for a right thought. She was making a most miserable showing, and yet feelings were generating within her which were anything but crumbling cowardice.
“I thought I told you,” he added.
“No, you didn’t,” she contradicted, suddenly recovering her voice. “You didn’t do anything of the kind.”