been a very, very foolish boy, wasting your time dreaming of
impossible things when you speak of Mr. Pontellier setting me free! I
am no longer one of Mr. Pontellier's possessions to dispose of or not.
I give myself where I choose. If he were to say, 'Here, Robert, take her
and be happy; she is yours,' I should laugh at you both."

His face grew a little white. "What do you mean?" he asked.

There was a knock at the door. Old Celestine came in to say that Madame
Ratignolle's servant had come around the back way with a message that
Madame had been taken sick and begged Mrs. Pontellier to go to her
immediately.

"Yes, yes," said Edna, rising; "I promised. Tell her yes--to wait for
me. I'll go back with her."

"Let me walk over with you," offered Robert.

"No," she said; "I will go with the servant. She went into her room to
put on her hat, and when she came in again she sat once more upon the
sofa beside him. He had not stirred. She put her arms about his neck.

"Good-by, my sweet Robert. Tell me good-by." He kissed her with a degree
of passion which had not before entered into his caress, and strained
her to him.

"I love you," she whispered, "only you; no one but you. It was you who
awoke me last summer out of a life-long, stupid dream. Oh! you have made
me so unhappy with your indifference. Oh! I have suffered, suffered! Now
you are here we shall love each other, my Robert. We shall be everything
to each other. Nothing else in the world is of any consequence. I must
go to my friend; but you will wait for me? No matter how late; you will
wait for me, Robert?"

"Don't go; don't go! Oh! Edna, stay with me," he pleaded. "Why should
you go? Stay with me, stay with me."

"I shall come back as soon as I can; I shall find you here." She buried
her face in his neck, and said good-by again. Her seductive voice,
together with his great love for her, had enthralled his senses, had
deprived him of every impulse but the longing to hold her and keep her.

XXXVII

Edna looked in at the drug store. Monsieur Ratignolle was putting up
a mixture himself, very carefully, dropping a red liquid into a tiny
glass. He was grateful to Edna for having come; her presence would be
a comfort to his wife. Madame Ratignolle's sister, who had always been
with her at such trying times, had not been able to come up from the
plantation, and Adele had been inconsolable until Mrs. Pontellier so
kindly promised to come to her. The nurs