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The Awakening and Selected Short Stories by Kate O'Flaherty Chopin
page 34 of 248 (13%)
house."

The lovers were just entering the grounds of the pension. They were
leaning toward each other as the wateroaks bent from the sea. There was
not a particle of earth beneath their feet. Their heads might have been
turned upside-down, so absolutely did they tread upon blue ether. 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 to
his mother's room. It was situated at the top of the house, made up of
odd angles and a queer, sloping ceiling. Two broad dormer windows looked
out toward the Gulf, and as far across it as a man's eye might reach.
The furnishings of the room were light, cool, and practical.

Madame Lebrun was busily engaged at the sewing-machine. A little black
girl sat on the floor, and with her hands worked the treadle of the
machine. The Creole woman does not take any chances which may be avoided
of imperiling her health.

Robert went over and seated himself on the broad sill of one of the
dormer windows. He took a book from his pocket and began energetically
to read it, judging by the precision and frequency with which he turned
the leaves. The sewing-machine made a resounding clatter in the room;
it was of a ponderous, by-gone make. In the lulls, Robert and his mother
exchanged bits of desultory conversation.

"Where is Mrs. Pontellier?"

"Down at the beach with the children."
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