“No,” said Carrie, feeling sadly handicapped by fate.
“We can get along if we economise. I’ll pay you back all right.”
“Oh, I’ll help you,” said Carrie, feeling quite hardhearted at thus forcing him to humbly appeal, and yet her desire for the benefit of her earnings wrung a faint protest from her.
“Why don’t you take anything, George, temporarily?” she said. “What difference does it make? Maybe, after a while, you’ll get something better.”
“I will take anything,” he said, relieved, and wincing under reproof. “I’d just as leave dig on the streets. Nobody knows me here.”
“Oh, you needn’t do that,” said Carrie, hurt by the pity of it. “But there must be other things.”
“I’ll get something!” he said, assuming determination.
Then he went back to his paper.
Chapter XXXIX. OF LIGHTS AND OF SHADOWS: THE PARTING OF WORLDS
What Hurstwood got as the result of this determination was more self-assurance that each particular day was not the day. At the same time, Carrie passed through thirty days of mental distress.