“You see that things are safe and all the employees are out when you go home, George,” Moy had once remarked to him, and he never once, in all the period of his long service, neglected to do this. Neither of the owners had for years been in the resort after five in the afternoon, and yet their manager as faithfully fulfilled this request as if they had been there regularly to observe. On this Friday afternoon, scarcely two days after his previous visit, he made up his mind to see Carrie. He could not stay away longer. “Evans,” he said, addressing the head barkeeper, “if any one calls, I will be back between four and five.” He hurried to Madison Street and boarded a horse-car, which carried him to Ogden Place in half an hour. Carrie had thought of going for a walk, and had put on a light grey woollen dress with a jaunty double-breasted jacket. She had out her hat and gloves, and was fastening a white lace tie about her throat when the housemaid brought up the information that Mr. Hurstwood wished to see her. She started slightly at the announcement, but told the girl to say that she would come down in a moment, and proceeded to hasten her dressing. Carrie could not have told herself at this moment whether she was glad or sorry that the impressive manager was awaiting her presence. She was slightly flurried and tingling in the cheeks, but it was more nervousness than either fear or favour. She did not try to conjecture what the drift of the conversation would be. She only felt that she must be careful, and that Hurstwood had an indefinable fascination for her. Then she gave her tie its last touch with her fingers and went below. The deep-feeling manager was himself a little strained in the nerves by the thorough consciousness of his mission. He felt that he must make a strong play on this occasion, but now that the hour was come, and he heard Carrie’s feet upon the stair, his nerve failed him. He sank a little in determination, for he was not so sure, after all, what her opinion might be. When she entered the room, however, her appearance gave him courage. She looked simple and charming enough to strengthen the daring of any lover. Her apparent nervousness dispelled his own. “How are you?” he said, easily. “I could not resist the temptation to come out this afternoon, it was so pleasant.” “Yes,” said Carrie, halting before him, “I was just preparing to go for a walk myself.” “Oh, were you?” he said. “Supposing, then, you get your hat and we both go?” They crossed the park and went west along Washington Boulevard, beautiful with its broad macadamised road, and large frame houses set back from the sidewalks. It was a street where many of the more prosperous residents of the West Side lived, and Hurstwood could not help feeling nervous over the publicity of it. They had gone but a few blocks when a livery stable sign in one of the side streets solved the difficulty for him. He would take her to drive along the new Boulevard.