The flutter of an eyelash would have brought her a companion.
That she did not give.
One experienced youth volunteered, anyhow.
"Not going home alone, are you ?" he said.
Carrie merely hastened her steps and took the Sixth Avenue car.

Her head was so full of the wonder of it that she had time for nothing else.
"Did you hear any more from the brewery ?" she asked at the end of the week, hoping by the question to stir him on to action.
"No," he answered, "they're not quite ready yet.

I think something will come of that, though." She said nothing more then, objecting to giving up her own money, and yet feeling that such would have to be the case.

Hurstwood felt the crisis, and artfully decided to appeal to Carrie.

He had long since realized how good-natured she was, how much she would stand.