go right away, so as to be back in
time. It would be a little too chilly if I waited till this afternoon."

Mariequita ran over to Victor's room, and returned with some towels,
which she gave to Edna.

"I hope you have fish for dinner," said Edna, as she started to walk
away; "but don't do anything extra if you haven't."

"Run and find Philomel's mother," Victor instructed the girl. "I'll
go to the kitchen and see what I can do. By Gimminy! Women have no
consideration! She might have sent me word."

Edna walked on down to the beach rather mechanically, not noticing
anything special except that the sun was hot. She was not dwelling upon
any particular train of thought. She had done all the thinking which was
necessary after Robert went away, when she lay awake upon the sofa till
morning.

She had said over and over to herself: "To-day it is Arobin; to-morrow
it will be some one else. It makes no difference to me, it doesn't
matter about Leonce Pontellier--but Raoul and Etienne!" She understood
now clearly what she had meant long ago when she said to Adele
Ratignolle that she would give up the unessential, but she would never
sacrifice herself for her children.

Despondency had come upon her there in the wakeful night, and had never
lifted. There was no one thing in the world that she desired. There
was no human being whom she wanted near her except Robert; and she even
realized that the day would come when he, too, and the thought of
him would melt out of her existence, leaving her alone. The children
appeared before her like antagonists who had overcome her; who had
overpowered and sought to drag her into the soul's slavery for the rest
of her days. But she knew a way to elude them. She was not thinking of
these things when she walked down to the beach.

The water of the Gulf stretched out before her, gleaming with the
million lights of the sun. The voice of the sea is seductive, never
ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander
in abysses of solitude. All along the white beach, up and down, there
was no living thing in sight. A bird with a broken wing was beating
the air above, reeling, fluttering, circling disabled down, down to the
water.

Edna had found her old bathing suit still hanging, faded, upon its
accustomed peg.

She put it on, leaving her clothing in the bath-house. But when she
was there beside the sea, absolutely alone, she cast the unpleasant,
pricking garments from