near you. I'm going to get a divorce just as soon as I can.
I'll never see her again. I'm done with all that. You're the only person
I want. If I can have you I won't ever think of another woman again."

Carrie heard all this in a very ruffled state. It sounded sincere
enough, however, despite all he had done. There was a tenseness in
Hurstwood's voice and manner which could but have some effect. She did
not want anything to do with him. He was married, he had deceived
her once, and now again, and she thought him terrible. Still there is
something in such daring and power which is fascinating to a woman,
especially if she can be made to feel that it is all prompted by love of
her.

The progress of the train was having a great deal to do with the
solution of this difficult situation. The speeding wheels and
disappearing country put Chicago farther and farther behind. Carrie
could feel that she was being borne a long distance off--that the engine
was making an almost through run to some distant city. She felt at times
as if she could cry out and make such a row that some one would come to
her aid; at other times it seemed an almost useless thing--so far was
she from any aid, no matter what she did. All the while Hurstwood was
endeavouring to formulate his plea in such a way that it would strike
home and bring her into sympathy with him.

"I was simply put where I didn't know what else to do."

Carrie deigned no suggestion of hearing this.

"When I say you wouldn't come unless I could marry you, I decided to put
everything else behind me and get you to come away with me. I'm going
off now to another city. I want to go to Montreal for a while, and then
anywhere you want to. We'll go and live in New York, if you say."

"I'll not have anything to do with you," said Carrie. "I want to get off
this train. Where are we going?"

"To Detroit," said Hurstwood.

"Oh!" said Carrie, in a burst of anguish. So distant and definite a
point seemed to increase the difficulty.

"Won't you come along with me?" he said, as if there was great danger
that she would not. "You won't need to do anything but travel with me.
I'll not trouble you in any way. You can see Montreal and New York, and
then if you don't want to stay you can go back. It will be better than
trying to go back to-night."

The first gleam of fairness shone in this proposition for Carrie. It
seemed a plausible thing to do, much as she feared his opposition if she
tri