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Updated: June 18, 2025
"What is the matter with you?" asked Arobin that evening. "I never found you in such a happy mood." Edna was tired by that time, and was reclining on the lounge before the fire. "Don't you know the weather prophet has told us we shall see the sun pretty soon?" "Well, that ought to be reason enough," he acquiesced. "You wouldn't give me another if I sat here all night imploring you."
His cheeks were the color of crushed grapes, and his dusky eyes glowed with a languishing fire. "Sapristi!" exclaimed Arobin. But Mrs. Highcamp had one more touch to add to the picture. She took from the back of her chair a white silken scarf, with which she had covered her shoulders in the early part of the evening.
And she recommended great care in dripping the coffee and having the omelet done to a proper turn. When she reentered, Robert was turning over magazines, sketches, and things that lay upon the table in great disorder. He picked up a photograph, and exclaimed: "Alcee Arobin! What on earth is his picture doing here?"
Highcamp was a worldly but unaffected, intelligent, slim, tall blonde woman in the forties, with an indifferent manner and blue eyes that stared. Alcee Arobin was one of them. He was a familiar figure at the race course, the opera, the fashionable clubs.
Victor expressed his desire and intention to call upon Miss Highcamp at the first opportunity which presented itself. He asked if Arobin were going his way. Arobin was not. The mandolin players had long since stolen away. A profound stillness had fallen upon the broad, beautiful street. The voices of Edna's disbanding guests jarred like a discordant note upon the quiet harmony of the night.
But perhaps I had better write. I think I shall write now, and say that I am sorry her child is sick, and tell her not to count on me." "It would be a good scheme," acquiesced Arobin. "I don't blame you; stupid lot!" Edna opened the blotter, and having procured paper and pen, began to write the note. Arobin lit a cigar and read the evening paper, which he had in his pocket.
Highcamp remained, as usual, unmoved, with her indifferent stare and uplifted eyebrows. Edna stayed and dined with Mrs. Highcamp upon being urged to do so. Arobin also remained and sent away his drag. The dinner was quiet and uninteresting, save for the cheerful efforts of Arobin to enliven things. Mrs.
Edna had staked her father on his last venture, with the most gratifying results to both of them. Besides, they had met some very charming people, according to the Colonel's impressions. Mrs. Mortimer Merriman and Mrs. James Highcamp, who were there with Alcee Arobin, had joined them and had enlivened the hours in a fashion that warmed him to think of. Mr.
She wanted something to happen something, anything; she did not know what. She regretted that she had not made Arobin stay a half hour to talk over the horses with her. She counted the money she had won. But there was nothing else to do, so she went to bed, and tossed there for hours in a sort of monotonous agitation.
"I hope to heaven it isn't Alcee Arobin." Edna and her father had a warm, and almost violent dispute upon the subject of her refusal to attend her sister's wedding. Mr. Pontellier declined to interfere, to interpose either his influence or his authority. He was following Doctor Mandelet's advice, and letting her do as she liked.
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