or, took a good look around and went out.

Chapter XXVII. WHEN WATERS ENGULF US WE REACH FOR A STAR

It was when he returned from his disturbed stroll about the streets,
after receiving the decisive note from McGregor, James and Hay, that
Hurstwood found the letter Carrie had written him that morning. He
thrilled intensely as he noted the handwriting, and rapidly tore it
open.

"Then," he thought, "she loves me or she would not have written to me at
all."

He was slightly depressed at the tenor of the note for the first few
minutes, but soon recovered. "She wouldn't write at all if she didn't
care for me."

This was his one resource against the depression which held him. He
could extract little from the wording of the letter, but the spirit he
thought he knew.

There was really something exceedingly human--if not pathetic--in his
being thus relieved by a clearly worded reproof. He who had for so
long remained satisfied with himself now looked outside of himself for
comfort--and to such a source. The mystic cords of affection! How they
bind us all.

The colour came to his cheeks. For the moment he forgot the letter from
McGregor, James and Hay. If he could only have Carrie, perhaps he could
get out of the whole entanglement--perhaps it would not matter. He
wouldn't care what his wife did with herself if only he might not lose
Carrie. He stood up and walked about, dreaming his delightful dream of a
life continued with this lovely possessor of his heart.

It was not long, however, before the old worry was back for
consideration, and with it what weariness! He thought of the morrow and
the suit. He had done nothing, and here was the afternoon slipping away.
It was now a quarter of four. At five the attorneys would have gone
home. He still had the morrow until noon. Even as he thought, the last
fifteen minutes passed away and it was five. Then he abandoned the
thought of seeing them any more that day and turned to Carrie.

It is to be observed that the man did not justify himself to himself. He
was not troubling about that. His whole thought was the possibility of
persuading Carrie. Nothing was wrong in that. He loved her dearly. Their
mutual happiness depended upon it. Would that Drouet were only away!

While he was thinking thus elatedly, he remembered that he wanted some
clean linen in the morning.

This he purchased, together with a half-dozen ties, and went to the
Palmer House. As he entered he thoug