{"id":154,"date":"2021-05-18T11:24:05","date_gmt":"2021-05-18T15:24:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/awakening\/?post_type=chapter&p=154"},"modified":"2022-02-01T11:22:36","modified_gmt":"2022-02-01T16:22:36","slug":"38","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/chapter\/38\/","title":{"raw":"Chapter XXXVIII","rendered":"Chapter XXXVIII"},"content":{"raw":"Edna still felt dazed when she got outside in the open air. The Doctor\u2019s coup\u00e9 had returned for him and stood before the porte coch\u00e8re<\/i>. She did not wish to enter the coup\u00e9, and told Doctor Mandelet she would walk; she was not afraid, and would go alone. He directed his carriage to meet him at Mrs. Pontellier\u2019s, and he started to walk home with her.\r\n\r\nUp\u2014away up, over the narrow street between the tall houses, the stars were blazing. The air was mild and caressing, but cool with the breath of spring and the night. They walked slowly, the Doctor with a heavy, measured tread and his hands behind him; Edna, in an absent-minded way, as she had walked one night at Grand Isle, as if her thoughts had gone ahead of her and she was striving to overtake them.\r\n\r\n\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have been there, Mrs. Pontellier,\u201d he said. \u201cThat was no place for you. Ad\u00e8le is full of whims at such times. There were a dozen women she might have had with her, unimpressionable women. I felt that it was cruel, cruel. You shouldn\u2019t have gone.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOh, well!\u201d she answered, indifferently. \u201cI don\u2019t know that it matters after all. One has to think of the children some time or other; the sooner the better.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhen is L\u00e9once coming back?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cQuite soon. Some time in March.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cAnd you are going abroad?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cPerhaps\u2014no, I am not going. I\u2019m not going to be forced into doing things. I don\u2019t want to go abroad. I want to be let alone. Nobody has any right\u2014except children, perhaps\u2014and even then, it seems to me\u2014or it did seem\u2014\u201d She felt that her speech was voicing the incoherency of her thoughts, and stopped abruptly.\r\n\r\n\u201cThe trouble is,\u201d sighed the Doctor, grasping her meaning intuitively, \u201cthat youth is given up to illusions. It seems to be a provision of Nature; a decoy to secure mothers for the race. And Nature takes no account of moral consequences, of arbitrary conditions which we create, and which we feel obliged to maintain at any cost.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes,\u201d she said. \u201cThe years that are gone seem like dreams\u2014if one might go on sleeping and dreaming\u2014but to wake up and find\u2014oh! well! perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one\u2019s life.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIt seems to me, my dear child,\u201d said the Doctor at parting, holding her hand, \u201cyou seem to me to be in trouble. I am not going to ask for your confidence. I will only say that if ever you feel moved to give it to me, perhaps I might help you. I know I would understand. And I tell you there are not many who would\u2014not many, my dear.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cSome way I don\u2019t feel moved to speak of things that trouble me. Don\u2019t think I am ungrateful or that I don\u2019t appreciate your sympathy. There are periods of despondency and suffering which take possession of me. But I don\u2019t want anything but my own way. That is wanting a good deal, of course, when you have to trample upon the lives, the hearts, the prejudices of others\u2014but no matter\u2014still, I shouldn\u2019t want to trample upon the little lives. Oh! I don\u2019t know what I\u2019m saying, Doctor. Good night. Don\u2019t blame me for anything.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, I will blame you if you don\u2019t come and see me soon. We will talk of things you never have dreamt of talking about before. It will do us both good. I don\u2019t want you to blame yourself, whatever comes. Good night, my child.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe let herself in at the gate, but instead of entering she sat upon the step of the porch. The night was quiet and soothing. All the tearing emotion of the last few hours seemed to fall away from her like a somber, uncomfortable garment, which she had but to loosen to be rid of. She went back to that hour before Ad\u00e8le had sent for her; and her senses kindled afresh in thinking of Robert\u2019s words, the pressure of his arms, and the feeling of his lips upon her own. She could picture at that moment no greater bliss on earth than possession of the beloved one. His expression of love had already given him to her in part. When she thought that he was there at hand, waiting for her, she grew numb with the intoxication of expectancy. It was so late; he would be asleep perhaps. She would awaken him with a kiss. She hoped he would be asleep that she might arouse him with her caresses.\r\n\r\nStill, she remembered Ad\u00e8le\u2019s voice whispering, \u201cThink of the children; think of them.\u201d She meant to think of them; that determination had driven into her soul like a death wound\u2014but not to-night. To-morrow would be time to think of everything.\r\n\r\nRobert was not waiting for her in the little parlor. He was nowhere at hand. The house was empty. But he had scrawled on a piece of paper that lay in the lamplight:\r\n\r\n\u201cI love you. Good-by\u2014because I love you.\u201d\r\n\r\nEdna grew faint when she read the words. She went and sat on the sofa. Then she stretched herself out there, never uttering a sound. She did not sleep. She did not go to bed. The lamp sputtered and went out. She was still awake in the morning, when Celestine unlocked the kitchen door and came in to light the fire.","rendered":"

Edna still felt dazed when she got outside in the open air. The Doctor\u2019s coup\u00e9 had returned for him and stood before the porte coch\u00e8re<\/i>. She did not wish to enter the coup\u00e9, and told Doctor Mandelet she would walk; she was not afraid, and would go alone. He directed his carriage to meet him at Mrs. Pontellier\u2019s, and he started to walk home with her.<\/p>\n

Up\u2014away up, over the narrow street between the tall houses, the stars were blazing. The air was mild and caressing, but cool with the breath of spring and the night. They walked slowly, the Doctor with a heavy, measured tread and his hands behind him; Edna, in an absent-minded way, as she had walked one night at Grand Isle, as if her thoughts had gone ahead of her and she was striving to overtake them.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have been there, Mrs. Pontellier,\u201d he said. \u201cThat was no place for you. Ad\u00e8le is full of whims at such times. There were a dozen women she might have had with her, unimpressionable women. I felt that it was cruel, cruel. You shouldn\u2019t have gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, well!\u201d she answered, indifferently. \u201cI don\u2019t know that it matters after all. One has to think of the children some time or other; the sooner the better.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen is L\u00e9once coming back?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cQuite soon. Some time in March.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you are going abroad?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps\u2014no, I am not going. I\u2019m not going to be forced into doing things. I don\u2019t want to go abroad. I want to be let alone. Nobody has any right\u2014except children, perhaps\u2014and even then, it seems to me\u2014or it did seem\u2014\u201d She felt that her speech was voicing the incoherency of her thoughts, and stopped abruptly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe trouble is,\u201d sighed the Doctor, grasping her meaning intuitively, \u201cthat youth is given up to illusions. It seems to be a provision of Nature; a decoy to secure mothers for the race. And Nature takes no account of moral consequences, of arbitrary conditions which we create, and which we feel obliged to maintain at any cost.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d she said. \u201cThe years that are gone seem like dreams\u2014if one might go on sleeping and dreaming\u2014but to wake up and find\u2014oh! well! perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one\u2019s life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt seems to me, my dear child,\u201d said the Doctor at parting, holding her hand, \u201cyou seem to me to be in trouble. I am not going to ask for your confidence. I will only say that if ever you feel moved to give it to me, perhaps I might help you. I know I would understand. And I tell you there are not many who would\u2014not many, my dear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome way I don\u2019t feel moved to speak of things that trouble me. Don\u2019t think I am ungrateful or that I don\u2019t appreciate your sympathy. There are periods of despondency and suffering which take possession of me. But I don\u2019t want anything but my own way. That is wanting a good deal, of course, when you have to trample upon the lives, the hearts, the prejudices of others\u2014but no matter\u2014still, I shouldn\u2019t want to trample upon the little lives. Oh! I don\u2019t know what I\u2019m saying, Doctor. Good night. Don\u2019t blame me for anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I will blame you if you don\u2019t come and see me soon. We will talk of things you never have dreamt of talking about before. It will do us both good. I don\u2019t want you to blame yourself, whatever comes. Good night, my child.\u201d<\/p>\n

She let herself in at the gate, but instead of entering she sat upon the step of the porch. The night was quiet and soothing. All the tearing emotion of the last few hours seemed to fall away from her like a somber, uncomfortable garment, which she had but to loosen to be rid of. She went back to that hour before Ad\u00e8le had sent for her; and her senses kindled afresh in thinking of Robert\u2019s words, the pressure of his arms, and the feeling of his lips upon her own. She could picture at that moment no greater bliss on earth than possession of the beloved one. His expression of love had already given him to her in part. When she thought that he was there at hand, waiting for her, she grew numb with the intoxication of expectancy. It was so late; he would be asleep perhaps. She would awaken him with a kiss. She hoped he would be asleep that she might arouse him with her caresses.<\/p>\n

Still, she remembered Ad\u00e8le\u2019s voice whispering, \u201cThink of the children; think of them.\u201d She meant to think of them; that determination had driven into her soul like a death wound\u2014but not to-night. To-morrow would be time to think of everything.<\/p>\n

Robert was not waiting for her in the little parlor. He was nowhere at hand. The house was empty. But he had scrawled on a piece of paper that lay in the lamplight:<\/p>\n

\u201cI love you. Good-by\u2014because I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edna grew faint when she read the words. She went and sat on the sofa. Then she stretched herself out there, never uttering a sound. She did not sleep. She did not go to bed. The lamp sputtered and went out. She was still awake in the morning, when Celestine unlocked the kitchen door and came in to light the fire.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":251,"menu_order":38,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-154","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\/154","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\/154\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":234,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/154\/revisions\/234"}],"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\/154\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=154"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=154"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=154"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/awakening\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=154"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}