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The Awakening

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 1346    |    Released on: 18/11/2017

e and Robert had started their slow, homeward way. She looked up in his face, lea

d, glancing down into her eyes that were f

one; let Mrs. Po

udden, boyish laugh. "Voila que

t; I mean what I say. Le

growing serious at his

ike us. She might make the unfortun

d sharply. "Am I a comedian, a clown, a jack-in-the-box? Why shouldn't she? You Creoles! I have no patience with you! Am I always to be regarded as a feature of an amusing

expect from one of those children down there playing in the sand. If your attentions to any married women here were ever offered with any intention of being c

eved to be the law and the gospel. The you

ehemently upon his head. "You ought to feel that s

urse consist of an exchan

consul's wife at Biloxi?" And he related the story of Alcee Arobin and the consul's wife; and another about the tenor of the French Opera, who received letters which shoul

st which she considered helpful. Before leaving her, Robert begged her pardon for th

ve warned me against taking myself seriously. Your advice might then have carried some weight and given me subject for some reflection. Au revoir. But

tchen, which was a building apart from the cottages and lying to the rear of the house. And he himself

r, and received the cup from his hands. She told him he was a bon garcon,

The lady in black, creeping behind them, looked a trifle paler and more jaded than usual. There was no sign of Mrs. Pontellier and the children. Robert scanned the distance for any such apparition. They would doubtless remain away till the dinner hour. The young man ascended

on the floor, and with her hands worked the treadle of the machine. The Creole

tically to read it, judging by the precision and frequency with which he turned the leaves. The sewing-machine made a resounding cl

Mrs. Pon

beach with

when you go; it's there on the bookshelf over the small table." C

or going with

ckaway?

He seems to be getting read

." Clatte

cing whistle which might have

n't lo

aved a handkerchief and called again. The young fellow below

Victor was the younger son and brother-a tete montee, with a t

ady to thrash any amount of reaso

that the conduct of the universe and all things pertaining thereto would have been manifestly of a more intelligent

ion and desire for the past twenty years had been to fill the void which Monsieur L

of the workbasket. "He says to tell you he will be in Vera Cruz the beginning of next month,"-cl

fore, mother? You know I want

l be in late to luncheon again. She never starts to get ready for lu

ou say the G

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