"There's no use your packing up now.
You can't go anywhere." Still he got nothing for his words.
"If you'll do that, we'll call it off for the present and I'll get out." Carrie lowered her handkerchief slightly and looked out of the window.
"Will you do that ?" he asked.
Still no answer.
"Will you ?" he repeated.
She only looked vaguely into the street.
"Aw! come on," he said, "tell me.

Will you ?" "I don't know," said Carrie softly, forced to answer.
"Promise me you'll do that," he said, "and we'll quit talking about it.
It'll be the best thing for you." Carrie heard him, but she could not bring herself to answer reasonably.
She felt that the man was gentle, and that his interest in her had not abated, and it made her suffer a pang of regret.

She was in a most helpless plight.
As for Drouet, his attitude had been that of the jealous lover.

Now his feelings were a mixture of anger at deception, sorrow at losing Carrie, misery at being defeated.

He wanted his rights in some way or other, and yet his rights included the retaining of Carrie, the making her feel her error.
"Will you ?" he urged.
"Well, I'll see," said Carrie.
This left the matter as open as before, but it was something.