full of thoughtfulness and some speculation.

"I only ask for one; let Mrs. Pontellier alone."

"Tiens!" he exclaimed, with a sudden, boyish laugh. "Voila que Madame
Ratignolle est jalouse!"

"Nonsense! I'm in earnest; I mean what I say. Let Mrs. Pontellier
alone."

"Why?" he asked; himself growing serious at his companion's
solicitation.

"She is not one of us; she is not like us. She might make the
unfortunate blunder of taking you seriously."

His face flushed with annoyance, and taking off his soft hat he began
to beat it impatiently against his leg as he walked. "Why shouldn't she
take me seriously?" he demanded 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 programme? I
hope Mrs. Pontellier does take me seriously. I hope she has discernment
enough to find in me something besides the blagueur. If I thought there
was any doubt--"

"Oh, enough, Robert!" she broke into his heated outburst. "You are
not thinking of what you are saying. You speak with about as little
reflection as we might 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 convincing, you would not be
the gentleman we all know you to be, and you would be unfit to associate
with the wives and daughters of the people who trust you."

Madame Ratignolle had spoken what she believed to be the law and the
gospel. The young man shrugged his shoulders impatiently.

"Oh! well! That isn't it," slamming his hat down vehemently upon his
head. "You ought to feel that such things are not flattering to say to a
fellow."

"Should our whole intercourse consist of an exchange of compliments? Ma
foi!"

"It isn't pleasant to have a woman tell you--" he went on, unheedingly,
but breaking off suddenly: "Now if I were like Arobin-you remember Alcee
Arobin and that story of the 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 should never
have been written; and still other stories, grave and gay, till Mrs.
Pontellier and her possible propensity for taking young men seriously
was apparently forgotten.

Madame Ratignolle, when they had regained her cottage, went in to take
the hour's rest which she considered helpful. Befo