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Awakening & Selected Short Stories-Part6_Kate Chopin(1851-1904)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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time appalled and enfeebled her senses. But by an effort she

rallied her staggering faculties and managed to regain the land.



She made no mention of her encounter with death and her flash

of terror, except to say to her husband, "I thought I should have



perished out there alone."

"You were not so very far, my dear; I was watching you", he



told her.

Edna went at once to the bath-house, and she had put on her



dry clothes and was ready to return home before the others had left

the water. She started to walk away alone. They all called to her



and shouted to her. She waved a dissenting hand, and went on,

paying no further heed to their renewed cries which sought to



detain her.

"Sometimes I am tempted to think that Mrs. Pontellier is



capricious," said Madame Lebrun, who was amusing herself immensely

and feared that Edna's abruptdeparture might put an end to the



pleasure.

"I know she is," assented Mr. Pontellier; "sometimes, not



often."

Edna had not traversed a quarter of the distance on her way



home before she was overtaken by Robert.

"Did you think I was afraid?" she asked him, without a shade



of annoyance.

"No; I knew you weren't afraid."



"Then why did you come? Why didn't you stay out there with the

others?"



"I never thought of it."

"Thought of what?"



"Of anything. What difference does it make?"

"I'm very tired," she uttered, complainingly.



"I know you are."

"You don't know anything about it. Why should you know? I



never was so exhausted in my life. But it isn't unpleasant. A

thousand emotions have swept through me to-night. I don't



comprehend half of them. Don't mind what I'm saying; I am just

thinking aloud. I wonder if I shall ever be stirred again as



Mademoiselle Reisz's playing moved me to-night. I wonder if any

night on earth will ever again be like this one. It is like a



night in a dream. The people about me are like some uncanny,

half-human beings. There must be spirits abroad to-night."



"There are," whispered Robert, "Didn't you know this was

the twenty-eighth of August?"



"The twenty-eighth of August?"

"Yes. On the twenty-eighth of August, at the hour of



midnight, and if the moon is shining--the moon must be shining--a

spirit that has haunted these shores for ages rises up from the



Gulf. With its own penetrating vision the spirit seeks some one

mortal worthy to hold him company, worthy of being exalted for a



few hours into realms of the semi-celestials. His search has

always hitherto been fruitless, and he has sunk back, disheartened,



into the sea. But to-night he found Mrs. Pontellier. Perhaps he

will never whollyrelease her from the spell. Perhaps she will



never again suffer a poor, unworthy earthling to walk in the shadow

of her divine presence."



"Don't banter me," she said, wounded at what appeared to be

his flippancy. He did not mind the entreaty, but the tone with its



delicate note of pathos was like a reproach. He could not explain;

he could not tell her that he had penetrated her mood and



understood. He said nothing except to offer her his arm, for, by

her own admission, she was exhausted. She had been walking alone



with her arms hanging limp, letting her white skirts trail along

the dewy path. She took his arm, but she did not lean upon it.



She let her hand lie listlessly, as though her thoughts were

elsewhere--somewhere in advance of her body, and she was striving



to overtake them.

Robert assisted her into the hammock which swung from the post



before her door out to the trunk of a tree.

"Will you stay out here and wait for Mr. Pontellier?" he



asked.

"I'll stay out here. Good-night."



"Shall I get you a pillow?"




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