Root of His Evil Read Free

me.”
    “Because you’re a pretty slick little spy yourself, maybe. How did you find out my name?”
    “I found out all I wanted to know.”
    “Such as?”
    “Anyway, that you’re no company spy.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yes, I’m sure. I don’t think you’re anything, much.”
    I only meant to get back at him for saying I was slick, but my remark had the most unfortunate effect on him. His eyes dropped, his face got red as mahogany, and he picked up the corn and started to eat it. I waited for him to say something, but all he did was gnaw around the corn, with even his neck getting red. I went and got his salad. When I got back, he was almost through his second ear. I picked up the other ear and stripped it exactly the way he had. “Just to show you I really was paying attention.”
    “Thanks.”
    “I never had it that way, but it looks good.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “Carrie. Carrie Selden.”
    “Well, Carrie, I think you’re trying to be friendly, but you hit me below the belt. What made you say that? Was it just a crack, or—did you have something to go on?”
    “I had to have some kind of a comeback.”
    “Yes, but I’m thinking of something.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Those girls. Why did they pick you out?”
    “Oh, they often do.”
    “Not for nothing. They thought you’d take my measure.”
    “They just thought I’d be careful.”
    He looked at me a long time, in a way that made me feel very peculiar, because to me at least there was something unusual about his eyes, something very warm and tender. Then he said: “Well, all I can say, Carrie, is that I find you very baffling.”
    “In what way, may I ask?”
    “Everything about you seems delicate, and flowerlike, except that really you’re very cold and knowing.”
    “I don’t think I’m cold.”
    “Let’s get on to this other thing. They’re organizing here?”
    “...Why?”
    “There you go again, with that fishy look. You ought to do something about your eyes, Carrie. They give you away...Why? I’m curious, that’s all. I’m no company spy, or anything like that. Just an interested bystander. But interested. I’ve got my reasons. I’m not just talking.”
    “What reasons?”
    His lace got very hard and bitter, and what he said next was almost between his set teeth. “Malice. Pure, unadulterated malice. They’ve got it coming to them, plenty.”
    “Who is they?”
    “All of them. The system.”
    “I don’t see any system.”
    “All right, I do. The foxholes improve your eyesight, maybe. Anyway, I’ve got interested in this social reform thing, and I’m going into it. I want to see how it works right from the beginning, and here in this restaurant is a good place to start. I want to see how they go about it, this organizing, I mean. Does that clear it up?”
    “You sound awfully sore about something.”
    “I am sore.”
    “Well—sure we’re organizing.”
    “A.F. of L. or this other one?”
    “...It’s not the other one.”
    “How far has it gone?”
    “It’s all lined up.”
    “When does it pop?”
    “That all depends. The meeting’s tonight.”
    “Where?”
    “Reliance Hall.”
    “Third Avenue, up near Eightieth?”
    “Yes, it’s over in Yorkville somewhere.”
    “Can I get in?”
    “If you were a newspaper reporter—?”
    “Ah, that’s an idea.”
    “They’re letting reporters in later, after the main part is over. I could get you in. Are you a reporter?”
    “No, but I could muss up my collar. Would you?”
    He made that sound very personal, so I quickly said, “Why not?” as though I didn’t notice it.
    “...why did you make that crack?”
    “If it bothers you all that much, I’ll take it back.”
    “You can’t. The truth is, I’m not anything, much.”
    “Well, my goodness, you’re young yet.”
    “I’m twenty-seven. My farthest worth in the way of accomplishment was to get made a second louie in infantry...Napoleon conquered Italy at twenty-six.”
    “Maybe that