{"id":140,"date":"2021-05-18T11:20:55","date_gmt":"2021-05-18T15:20:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/awakening\/?post_type=chapter&p=140"},"modified":"2022-02-01T11:21:55","modified_gmt":"2022-02-01T16:21:55","slug":"33","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/chapter\/33\/","title":{"raw":"Chapter XXXIII","rendered":"Chapter XXXIII"},"content":{"raw":"It happened sometimes when Edna went to see Mademoiselle Reisz that the little musician was absent, giving a lesson or making some small necessary household purchase. The key was always left in a secret hiding-place in the entry, which Edna knew. If Mademoiselle happened to be away, Edna would usually enter and wait for her return.\r\n\r\nWhen she knocked at Mademoiselle Reisz\u2019s door one afternoon there was no response; so unlocking the door, as usual, she entered and found the apartment deserted, as she had expected. Her day had been quite filled up, and it was for a rest, for a refuge, and to talk about Robert, that she sought out her friend.\r\n\r\nShe had worked at her canvas\u2014a young Italian character study\u2014all the morning, completing the work without the model; but there had been many interruptions, some incident to her modest housekeeping, and others of a social nature.\r\n\r\nMadame Ratignolle had dragged herself over, avoiding the too public thoroughfares, she said. She complained that Edna had neglected her much of late. Besides, she was consumed with curiosity to see the little house and the manner in which it was conducted. She wanted to hear all about the dinner party; Monsieur Ratignolle had left so<\/i> early. What had happened after he left? The champagne and grapes which Edna sent over were too<\/i> delicious. She had so little appetite; they had refreshed and toned her stomach. Where on earth was she going to put Mr. Pontellier in that little house, and the boys? And then she made Edna promise to go to her when her hour of trial overtook her.\r\n\r\n\u201cAt any time\u2014any time of the day or night, dear,\u201d Edna assured her.\r\n\r\nBefore leaving Madame Ratignolle said:\r\n\r\n\u201cIn some way you seem to me like a child, Edna. You seem to act without a certain amount of reflection which is necessary in this life. That is the reason I want to say you mustn\u2019t mind if I advise you to be a little careful while you are living here alone. Why don\u2019t you have some one come and stay with you? Wouldn\u2019t Mademoiselle Reisz come?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cNo; she wouldn\u2019t wish to come, and I shouldn\u2019t want her always with me.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWell, the reason\u2014you know how evil-minded the world is\u2014some one was talking of Alc\u00e9e Arobin visiting you. Of course, it wouldn\u2019t matter if Mr. Arobin had not such a dreadful reputation. Monsieur Ratignolle was telling me that his attentions alone are considered enough to ruin a woman\u2019s name.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cDoes he boast of his successes?\u201d asked Edna, indifferently, squinting at her picture.\r\n\r\n\u201cNo, I think not. I believe he is a decent fellow as far as that goes. But his character is so well known among the men. I shan\u2019t be able to come back and see you; it was very, very imprudent to-day.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cMind the step!\u201d cried Edna.\r\n\r\n\u201cDon\u2019t neglect me,\u201d entreated Madame Ratignolle; \u201cand don\u2019t mind what I said about Arobin, or having some one to stay with you.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOf course not,\u201d Edna laughed. \u201cYou may say anything you like to me.\u201d They kissed each other good-by. Madame Ratignolle had not far to go, and Edna stood on the porch a while watching her walk down the street.\r\n\r\nThen in the afternoon Mrs. Merriman and Mrs. Highcamp had made their \u201cparty call.\u201d Edna felt that they might have dispensed with the formality. They had also come to invite her to play vingt-et-un<\/i> one evening at Mrs. Merriman\u2019s. She was asked to go early, to dinner, and Mr. Merriman or Mr. Arobin would take her home. Edna accepted in a half-hearted way. She sometimes felt very tired of Mrs. Highcamp and Mrs. Merriman.\r\n\r\nLate in the afternoon she sought refuge with Mademoiselle Reisz, and stayed there alone, waiting for her, feeling a kind of repose invade her with the very atmosphere of the shabby, unpretentious little room.\r\n\r\nEdna sat at the window, which looked out over the house-tops and across the river. The window frame was filled with pots of flowers, and she sat and picked the dry leaves from a rose geranium. The day was warm, and the breeze which blew from the river was very pleasant. She removed her hat and laid it on the piano. She went on picking the leaves and digging around the plants with her hat pin. Once she thought she heard Mademoiselle Reisz approaching. But it was a young black girl, who came in, bringing a small bundle of laundry, which she deposited in the adjoining room, and went away.\r\n\r\nEdna seated herself at the piano, and softly picked out with one hand the bars of a piece of music which lay open before her. A half-hour went by. There was the occasional sound of people going and coming in the lower hall. She was growing interested in her occupation of picking out the aria, when there was a second rap at the door. She vaguely wondered what these people did when they found Mademoiselle\u2019s door locked.\r\n\r\n\u201cCome in,\u201d she called, turning her face toward the door. And this time it was Robert Lebrun who presented himself. She attempted to rise; she could not have done so without betraying the agitation which mastered her at sight of him, so she fell back upon the stool, only exclaiming, \u201cWhy, Robert!\u201d\r\n\r\nHe came and clasped her hand, seemingly without knowing what he was saying or doing.\r\n\r\n\u201cMrs. Pontellier! How do you happen\u2014oh! how well you look! Is Mademoiselle Reisz not here? I never expected to see you.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhen did you come back?\u201d asked Edna in an unsteady voice, wiping her face with her handkerchief. She seemed ill at ease on the piano stool, and he begged her to take the chair by the window.\r\n\r\nShe did so, mechanically, while he seated himself on the stool.\r\n\r\n\u201cI returned day before yesterday,\u201d he answered, while he leaned his arm on the keys, bringing forth a crash of discordant sound.\r\n\r\n\u201cDay before yesterday!\u201d she repeated, aloud; and went on thinking to herself, \u201cday before yesterday,\u201d in a sort of an uncomprehending way. She had pictured him seeking her at the very first hour, and he had lived under the same sky since day before yesterday; while only by accident had he stumbled upon her. Mademoiselle must have lied when she said, \u201cPoor fool, he loves you.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cDay before yesterday,\u201d she repeated, breaking off a spray of Mademoiselle\u2019s geranium; \u201cthen if you had not met me here to-day you wouldn\u2019t\u2014when\u2014that is, didn\u2019t you mean to come and see me?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOf course, I should have gone to see you. There have been so many things\u2014\u201d he turned the leaves of Mademoiselle\u2019s music nervously. \u201cI started in at once yesterday with the old firm. After all there is as much chance for me here as there was there\u2014that is, I might find it profitable some day. The Mexicans were not very congenial.\u201d\r\n\r\nSo he had come back because the Mexicans were not congenial; because business was as profitable here as there; because of any reason, and not because he cared to be near her. She remembered the day she sat on the floor, turning the pages of his letter, seeking the reason which was left untold.\r\n\r\nShe had not noticed how he looked\u2014only feeling his presence; but she turned deliberately and observed him. After all, he had been absent but a few months, and was not changed. His hair\u2014the color of hers\u2014waved back from his temples in the same way as before. His skin was not more burned than it had been at Grand Isle. She found in his eyes, when he looked at her for one silent moment, the same tender caress, with an added warmth and entreaty which had not been there before\u2014the same glance which had penetrated to the sleeping places of her soul and awakened them.\r\n\r\nA hundred times Edna had pictured Robert\u2019s return, and imagined their first meeting. It was usually at her home, whither he had sought her out at once. She always fancied him expressing or betraying in some way his love for her. And here, the reality was that they sat ten feet apart, she at the window, crushing geranium leaves in her hand and smelling them, he twirling around on the piano stool, saying:\r\n\r\n\u201cI was very much surprised to hear of Mr. Pontellier\u2019s absence; it\u2019s a wonder Mademoiselle Reisz did not tell me; and your moving\u2014mother told me yesterday. I should think you would have gone to New York with him, or to Iberville with the children, rather than be bothered here with housekeeping. And you are going abroad, too, I hear. We shan\u2019t have you at Grand Isle next summer; it won\u2019t seem\u2014do you see much of Mademoiselle Reisz? She often spoke of you in the few letters she wrote.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cDo you remember that you promised to write to me when you went away?\u201d A flush overspread his whole face.\r\n\r\n\u201cI couldn\u2019t believe that my letters would be of any interest to you.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThat is an excuse; it isn\u2019t the truth.\u201d Edna reached for her hat on the piano. She adjusted it, sticking the hat pin through the heavy coil of hair with some deliberation.\r\n\r\n\u201cAre you not going to wait for Mademoiselle Reisz?\u201d asked Robert.\r\n\r\n\u201cNo; I have found when she is absent this long, she is liable not to come back till late.\u201d She drew on her gloves, and Robert picked up his hat.\r\n\r\n\u201cWon\u2019t you wait for her?\u201d asked Edna.\r\n\r\n\u201cNot if you think she will not be back till late,\u201d adding, as if suddenly aware of some discourtesy in his speech, \u201cand I should miss the pleasure of walking home with you.\u201d Edna locked the door and put the key back in its hiding-place.\r\n\r\nThey went together, picking their way across muddy streets and sidewalks encumbered with the cheap display of small tradesmen. Part of the distance they rode in the car, and after disembarking, passed the Pontellier mansion, which looked broken and half torn asunder. Robert had never known the house, and looked at it with interest.\r\n\r\n\u201cI never knew you in your home,\u201d he remarked.\r\n\r\n\u201cI am glad you did not.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy?\u201d She did not answer. They went on around the corner, and it seemed as if her dreams were coming true after all, when he followed her into the little house.\r\n\r\n\u201cYou must stay and dine with me, Robert. You see I am all alone, and it is so long since I have seen you. There is so much I want to ask you.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe took off her hat and gloves. He stood irresolute, making some excuse about his mother who expected him; he even muttered something about an engagement. She struck a match and lit the lamp on the table; it was growing dusk. When he saw her face in the lamp-light, looking pained, with all the soft lines gone out of it, he threw his hat aside and seated himself.\r\n\r\n\u201cOh! you know I want to stay if you will let me!\u201d he exclaimed. All the softness came back. She laughed, and went and put her hand on his shoulder.\r\n\r\n\u201cThis is the first moment you have seemed like the old Robert. I\u2019ll go tell Celestine.\u201d She hurried away to tell Celestine to set an extra place. She even sent her off in search of some added delicacy which she had not thought of for herself. And she recommended great care in dripping the coffee and having the omelet done to a proper turn.\r\n\r\nWhen she reentered, Robert was turning over magazines, sketches, and things that lay upon the table in great disorder. He picked up a photograph, and exclaimed:\r\n\r\n\u201cAlc\u00e9e Arobin! What on earth is his picture doing here?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI tried to make a sketch of his head one day,\u201d answered Edna, \u201cand he thought the photograph might help me. It was at the other house. I thought it had been left there. I must have packed it up with my drawing materials.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI should think you would give it back to him if you have finished with it.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOh! I have a great many such photographs. I never think of returning them. They don\u2019t amount to anything.\u201d Robert kept on looking at the picture.\r\n\r\n\u201cIt seems to me\u2014do you think his head worth drawing? Is he a friend of Mr. Pontellier\u2019s? You never said you knew him.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHe isn\u2019t a friend of Mr. Pontellier\u2019s; he\u2019s a friend of mine. I always knew him\u2014that is, it is only of late that I know him pretty well. But I\u2019d rather talk about you, and know what you have been seeing and doing and feeling out there in Mexico.\u201d Robert threw aside the picture.\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019ve been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the quiet, grassy street of the Ch\u00eani\u00e8re;<\/i> the old fort at Grande Terre. I\u2019ve been working like a machine, and feeling like a lost soul. There was nothing interesting.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe leaned her head upon her hand to shade her eyes from the light.\r\n\r\n\u201cAnd what have you been seeing and doing and feeling all these days?\u201d he asked.\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019ve been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the quiet, grassy street of the Ch\u00eani\u00e8re Caminada;<\/i> the old sunny fort at Grande Terre. I\u2019ve been working with a little more comprehension than a machine, and still feeling like a lost soul. There was nothing interesting.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cMrs. Pontellier, you are cruel,\u201d he said, with feeling, closing his eyes and resting his head back in his chair. They remained in silence till old Celestine announced dinner.","rendered":"

It happened sometimes when Edna went to see Mademoiselle Reisz that the little musician was absent, giving a lesson or making some small necessary household purchase. The key was always left in a secret hiding-place in the entry, which Edna knew. If Mademoiselle happened to be away, Edna would usually enter and wait for her return.<\/p>\n

When she knocked at Mademoiselle Reisz\u2019s door one afternoon there was no response; so unlocking the door, as usual, she entered and found the apartment deserted, as she had expected. Her day had been quite filled up, and it was for a rest, for a refuge, and to talk about Robert, that she sought out her friend.<\/p>\n

She had worked at her canvas\u2014a young Italian character study\u2014all the morning, completing the work without the model; but there had been many interruptions, some incident to her modest housekeeping, and others of a social nature.<\/p>\n

Madame Ratignolle had dragged herself over, avoiding the too public thoroughfares, she said. She complained that Edna had neglected her much of late. Besides, she was consumed with curiosity to see the little house and the manner in which it was conducted. She wanted to hear all about the dinner party; Monsieur Ratignolle had left so<\/i> early. What had happened after he left? The champagne and grapes which Edna sent over were too<\/i> delicious. She had so little appetite; they had refreshed and toned her stomach. Where on earth was she going to put Mr. Pontellier in that little house, and the boys? And then she made Edna promise to go to her when her hour of trial overtook her.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt any time\u2014any time of the day or night, dear,\u201d Edna assured her.<\/p>\n

Before leaving Madame Ratignolle said:<\/p>\n

\u201cIn some way you seem to me like a child, Edna. You seem to act without a certain amount of reflection which is necessary in this life. That is the reason I want to say you mustn\u2019t mind if I advise you to be a little careful while you are living here alone. Why don\u2019t you have some one come and stay with you? Wouldn\u2019t Mademoiselle Reisz come?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo; she wouldn\u2019t wish to come, and I shouldn\u2019t want her always with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, the reason\u2014you know how evil-minded the world is\u2014some one was talking of Alc\u00e9e Arobin visiting you. Of course, it wouldn\u2019t matter if Mr. Arobin had not such a dreadful reputation. Monsieur Ratignolle was telling me that his attentions alone are considered enough to ruin a woman\u2019s name.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes he boast of his successes?\u201d asked Edna, indifferently, squinting at her picture.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I think not. I believe he is a decent fellow as far as that goes. But his character is so well known among the men. I shan\u2019t be able to come back and see you; it was very, very imprudent to-day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMind the step!\u201d cried Edna.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t neglect me,\u201d entreated Madame Ratignolle; \u201cand don\u2019t mind what I said about Arobin, or having some one to stay with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not,\u201d Edna laughed. \u201cYou may say anything you like to me.\u201d They kissed each other good-by. Madame Ratignolle had not far to go, and Edna stood on the porch a while watching her walk down the street.<\/p>\n

Then in the afternoon Mrs. Merriman and Mrs. Highcamp had made their \u201cparty call.\u201d Edna felt that they might have dispensed with the formality. They had also come to invite her to play vingt-et-un<\/i> one evening at Mrs. Merriman\u2019s. She was asked to go early, to dinner, and Mr. Merriman or Mr. Arobin would take her home. Edna accepted in a half-hearted way. She sometimes felt very tired of Mrs. Highcamp and Mrs. Merriman.<\/p>\n

Late in the afternoon she sought refuge with Mademoiselle Reisz, and stayed there alone, waiting for her, feeling a kind of repose invade her with the very atmosphere of the shabby, unpretentious little room.<\/p>\n

Edna sat at the window, which looked out over the house-tops and across the river. The window frame was filled with pots of flowers, and she sat and picked the dry leaves from a rose geranium. The day was warm, and the breeze which blew from the river was very pleasant. She removed her hat and laid it on the piano. She went on picking the leaves and digging around the plants with her hat pin. Once she thought she heard Mademoiselle Reisz approaching. But it was a young black girl, who came in, bringing a small bundle of laundry, which she deposited in the adjoining room, and went away.<\/p>\n

Edna seated herself at the piano, and softly picked out with one hand the bars of a piece of music which lay open before her. A half-hour went by. There was the occasional sound of people going and coming in the lower hall. She was growing interested in her occupation of picking out the aria, when there was a second rap at the door. She vaguely wondered what these people did when they found Mademoiselle\u2019s door locked.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome in,\u201d she called, turning her face toward the door. And this time it was Robert Lebrun who presented himself. She attempted to rise; she could not have done so without betraying the agitation which mastered her at sight of him, so she fell back upon the stool, only exclaiming, \u201cWhy, Robert!\u201d<\/p>\n

He came and clasped her hand, seemingly without knowing what he was saying or doing.<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Pontellier! How do you happen\u2014oh! how well you look! Is Mademoiselle Reisz not here? I never expected to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen did you come back?\u201d asked Edna in an unsteady voice, wiping her face with her handkerchief. She seemed ill at ease on the piano stool, and he begged her to take the chair by the window.<\/p>\n

She did so, mechanically, while he seated himself on the stool.<\/p>\n

\u201cI returned day before yesterday,\u201d he answered, while he leaned his arm on the keys, bringing forth a crash of discordant sound.<\/p>\n

\u201cDay before yesterday!\u201d she repeated, aloud; and went on thinking to herself, \u201cday before yesterday,\u201d in a sort of an uncomprehending way. She had pictured him seeking her at the very first hour, and he had lived under the same sky since day before yesterday; while only by accident had he stumbled upon her. Mademoiselle must have lied when she said, \u201cPoor fool, he loves you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDay before yesterday,\u201d she repeated, breaking off a spray of Mademoiselle\u2019s geranium; \u201cthen if you had not met me here to-day you wouldn\u2019t\u2014when\u2014that is, didn\u2019t you mean to come and see me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, I should have gone to see you. There have been so many things\u2014\u201d he turned the leaves of Mademoiselle\u2019s music nervously. \u201cI started in at once yesterday with the old firm. After all there is as much chance for me here as there was there\u2014that is, I might find it profitable some day. The Mexicans were not very congenial.\u201d<\/p>\n

So he had come back because the Mexicans were not congenial; because business was as profitable here as there; because of any reason, and not because he cared to be near her. She remembered the day she sat on the floor, turning the pages of his letter, seeking the reason which was left untold.<\/p>\n

She had not noticed how he looked\u2014only feeling his presence; but she turned deliberately and observed him. After all, he had been absent but a few months, and was not changed. His hair\u2014the color of hers\u2014waved back from his temples in the same way as before. His skin was not more burned than it had been at Grand Isle. She found in his eyes, when he looked at her for one silent moment, the same tender caress, with an added warmth and entreaty which had not been there before\u2014the same glance which had penetrated to the sleeping places of her soul and awakened them.<\/p>\n

A hundred times Edna had pictured Robert\u2019s return, and imagined their first meeting. It was usually at her home, whither he had sought her out at once. She always fancied him expressing or betraying in some way his love for her. And here, the reality was that they sat ten feet apart, she at the window, crushing geranium leaves in her hand and smelling them, he twirling around on the piano stool, saying:<\/p>\n

\u201cI was very much surprised to hear of Mr. Pontellier\u2019s absence; it\u2019s a wonder Mademoiselle Reisz did not tell me; and your moving\u2014mother told me yesterday. I should think you would have gone to New York with him, or to Iberville with the children, rather than be bothered here with housekeeping. And you are going abroad, too, I hear. We shan\u2019t have you at Grand Isle next summer; it won\u2019t seem\u2014do you see much of Mademoiselle Reisz? She often spoke of you in the few letters she wrote.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you remember that you promised to write to me when you went away?\u201d A flush overspread his whole face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t believe that my letters would be of any interest to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat is an excuse; it isn\u2019t the truth.\u201d Edna reached for her hat on the piano. She adjusted it, sticking the hat pin through the heavy coil of hair with some deliberation.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you not going to wait for Mademoiselle Reisz?\u201d asked Robert.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo; I have found when she is absent this long, she is liable not to come back till late.\u201d She drew on her gloves, and Robert picked up his hat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWon\u2019t you wait for her?\u201d asked Edna.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot if you think she will not be back till late,\u201d adding, as if suddenly aware of some discourtesy in his speech, \u201cand I should miss the pleasure of walking home with you.\u201d Edna locked the door and put the key back in its hiding-place.<\/p>\n

They went together, picking their way across muddy streets and sidewalks encumbered with the cheap display of small tradesmen. Part of the distance they rode in the car, and after disembarking, passed the Pontellier mansion, which looked broken and half torn asunder. Robert had never known the house, and looked at it with interest.<\/p>\n

\u201cI never knew you in your home,\u201d he remarked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am glad you did not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d She did not answer. They went on around the corner, and it seemed as if her dreams were coming true after all, when he followed her into the little house.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must stay and dine with me, Robert. You see I am all alone, and it is so long since I have seen you. There is so much I want to ask you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She took off her hat and gloves. He stood irresolute, making some excuse about his mother who expected him; he even muttered something about an engagement. She struck a match and lit the lamp on the table; it was growing dusk. When he saw her face in the lamp-light, looking pained, with all the soft lines gone out of it, he threw his hat aside and seated himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! you know I want to stay if you will let me!\u201d he exclaimed. All the softness came back. She laughed, and went and put her hand on his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is the first moment you have seemed like the old Robert. I\u2019ll go tell Celestine.\u201d She hurried away to tell Celestine to set an extra place. She even sent her off in search of some added delicacy which she had not thought of for herself. And she recommended great care in dripping the coffee and having the omelet done to a proper turn.<\/p>\n

When she reentered, Robert was turning over magazines, sketches, and things that lay upon the table in great disorder. He picked up a photograph, and exclaimed:<\/p>\n

\u201cAlc\u00e9e Arobin! What on earth is his picture doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tried to make a sketch of his head one day,\u201d answered Edna, \u201cand he thought the photograph might help me. It was at the other house. I thought it had been left there. I must have packed it up with my drawing materials.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI should think you would give it back to him if you have finished with it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! I have a great many such photographs. I never think of returning them. They don\u2019t amount to anything.\u201d Robert kept on looking at the picture.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt seems to me\u2014do you think his head worth drawing? Is he a friend of Mr. Pontellier\u2019s? You never said you knew him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe isn\u2019t a friend of Mr. Pontellier\u2019s; he\u2019s a friend of mine. I always knew him\u2014that is, it is only of late that I know him pretty well. But I\u2019d rather talk about you, and know what you have been seeing and doing and feeling out there in Mexico.\u201d Robert threw aside the picture.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the quiet, grassy street of the Ch\u00eani\u00e8re;<\/i> the old fort at Grande Terre. I\u2019ve been working like a machine, and feeling like a lost soul. There was nothing interesting.\u201d<\/p>\n

She leaned her head upon her hand to shade her eyes from the light.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what have you been seeing and doing and feeling all these days?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been seeing the waves and the white beach of Grand Isle; the quiet, grassy street of the Ch\u00eani\u00e8re Caminada;<\/i> the old sunny fort at Grande Terre. I\u2019ve been working with a little more comprehension than a machine, and still feeling like a lost soul. There was nothing interesting.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Pontellier, you are cruel,\u201d he said, with feeling, closing his eyes and resting his head back in his chair. They remained in silence till old Celestine announced dinner.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":251,"menu_order":33,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-140","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/140","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/251"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/140\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":229,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/140\/revisions\/229"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/140\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=140"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=140"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=140"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=140"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}