An excerpt from the original text.(complete · 1082 words)
he dining-room was very small. Edna’s round mahogany would have almost
filled it. As it was there was but a step or two from the little table
to the kitchen, to the mantel, the small buffet, and the side door that
opened out on the narrow brick-paved yard.
A certain degree of ceremony settled upon them with the announcement of
dinner. There was no return to personalities. Robert related incidents
of his sojourn in Mexico, and Edna talked of events likely to interest
him, which had occurred during his absence. The dinner was of ordinary
quality, except for the few delicacies which she had sent out to
purchase. Old Celestine, with a bandana tignon twisted about her
head, hobbled in and out, taking a personal interest in everything; and
she lingered occasionally to talk patois with Robert, whom she had
known as a boy.
He went out to a neighboring cigar stand to purchase cigarette papers,
and when he came back he found that Celestine had served the black
coffee in the parlor.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have come back,” he said. “When you are tired of
me, tell me to go.”
“You never tire me. You must have forgotten the hours and hours at
Grand Isle in which we grew accustomed to each other and used to being
together.”
“I have forgotten nothing at Grand Isle,” he said, not looking at her,
but rolling a cigarette. His tobacco pouch, which he laid upon the
table, was a fantastic embroidered silk affair, evidently the handiwork
of a woman.
“You used to carry your tobacco in a rubber pouch,” said Edna, picking
up the pouch and examining the needlework.
“Yes; it was lost.”
“Where did you buy this one? In Mexico?”
“It was given to me by a Vera Cruz girl; they are very generous,” he
replied, striking a match and lighting his cigarette.
“They are very handsome, I suppose, those Mexican women; very
picturesque, with their black eyes and their lace scarfs.”
“Some are; others are hideous, just as you find women everywhere.”
“What was she like—the one who gave you the pouch? You must have known
her very well.”
“She was very ordinary. She wasn’t of the slightest importance. I knew
her well enough.”
“Did you visit at her house? Was it interesting? I should like to know
and hear about the people you met, and the impressions they made on
you.”
“There are some people who leave impressions not so lasting as the
imprint of an oar upon the water.”
“Was she such a one?”
“It would be ungenerous for me to admit that she was of that order and
kind.” He thrust the pouch back in his pocket, as if to put away the
subject with the trifle which had brought it up.
Arobin dropped in with a message from Mrs. Merriman, to say that the
card party was postponed on account of the illness of one of her
children.
“How do you do, Arobin?” said Robert, rising from the obscurity.
“Oh! Lebrun. To be sure! I heard yesterday you were back. How did they
treat you down in Mexique?”
“Fairly well.”
“But not well enough to keep you there. Stunning girls, though, in
Mexico. I thought I should never get away from Vera Cruz when I was
down there a couple of years ago.”
“Did they embroider slippers and tobacco pouches and hat-bands and
things for you?” asked Edna.
“Oh! my! no! I didn’t get so deep in their regard. I fear they made
more impression on me than I made on them.”
“You were less fortunate than Robert, then.”
“I am always less fortunate than Robert. Has he been imparting tender
confidences?”
“I’ve been imposing myself long enough,” said Robert, rising, and
shaking hands with Edna. “Please convey my regards to Mr. Pontellier
when you write.”
He shook hands with Arobin and went away.
“Fine fellow, that Lebrun,” said Arobin when Robert had gone. “I never
heard you speak of him.”
“I knew him last summer at Grand Isle,” she replied. “Here is that
photograph of yours. Don’t you want it?”
“What do I want with it? Throw it away.” She threw it back on the
table.
“I’m not going to Mrs. Merriman’s,” she said. “If you see her, tell her
so. 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.
“What is the date?” she asked. He told her.
“Will you mail this for me when you go out?”
“Certainly.” He read to her little bits out of the newspaper, while she
straightened things on the table.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, throwing aside the paper. “Do you
want to go out for a walk or a drive or anything? It would be a fine
night to drive.”
“No; I don’t want to do anything but just be quiet. You go away and
amuse yourself. Don’t stay.”
“I’ll go away if I must; but I shan’t amuse myself. You know that I
only live when I am near you.”
He stood up to bid her good night.
“Is that one of the things you always say to women?”
“I have said it before, but I don’t think I ever came so near meaning
it,” he answered with a smile. There were no warm lights in her eyes;
only a dreamy, absent look.
“Good night. I adore you. Sleep well,” he said, and he kissed her hand
and went away.
She stayed alone in a kind of reverie—a sort of stupor. Step by step
she lived over every instant of the time she had been with Robert after
he had entered Mademoiselle Reisz’s door. She recalled his words, his
looks. How few and meager they had been for her hungry heart! A
vision—a transcendently seductive vision of a Mexican girl arose before
her. She writhed with a jealous pang. She wondered when he would come
back. He had not said he would come back. She had been with him, had
heard his voice and touched his hand. But some way he had seemed nearer
to her off there in Mexico.
Master this chapter. Complete your experience
Purchase the complete book to access all chapters and support classic literature
As an Amazon Associate, we earn a small commission from qualifying purchases at no additional cost to you.
Available in paperback, hardcover, and e-book formats
Let's Analyse the Pattern
The tendency to feel closer to people when they're absent than when they're physically present, mistaking longing and projection for genuine connection.
Why This Matters
Connect literature to life
This chapter teaches how to distinguish between genuine emotional connection and the false intimacy we create when someone's absent.
Practice This Today
This week, notice when you feel closer to someone through texts than in person—that's phantom intimacy warning you to test for real compatibility.
Now let's explore the literary elements.
Key Quotes & Analysis
"Perhaps I shouldn't have come back"
Context: He says this when returning from buying cigarette papers, sensing the awkwardness
This reveals Robert's awareness that something has fundamentally changed. He's questioning his decision to return, suggesting he feels the emotional distance too and might be regretting this reunion.
In Today's Words:
Maybe this was a mistake
"You never tire me. You must have forgotten the hours and hours at Grand Isle in which we grew accustomed to each other and used to being together"
Context: She's trying to reassure Robert and recapture their old intimacy
Edna is desperately trying to bridge the emotional gap by invoking their shared past. She's clinging to what they once had, not accepting that he's changed or moved on.
In Today's Words:
Remember how good we used to be together?
"I have forgotten nothing at Grand Isle"
Context: His response to Edna's plea, but he won't look at her while saying it
His words say one thing but his body language says another. He remembers everything but can't or won't engage with those memories emotionally, showing the painful distance between them.
In Today's Words:
I remember everything, but that doesn't mean I can go back
Thematic Threads
Emotional Distance
In This Chapter
Robert and Edna feel like strangers despite their deep connection at Grand Isle, unable to bridge the gap between physical presence and emotional intimacy
Development
Evolution from the easy intimacy of Grand Isle to the painful awkwardness of reunion
In Your Life:
You might recognize this when someone you felt close to through texts or calls becomes awkward and distant in person.
Jealousy
In This Chapter
Edna obsesses over the Mexican woman who embroidered Robert's tobacco pouch, torturing herself with imagined intimacies
Development
New manifestation of Edna's possessive feelings about Robert
In Your Life:
You might find yourself fixating on small signs of someone's other relationships, creating stories that cause unnecessary pain.
Social Performance
In This Chapter
Robert maintains polite conversation about Mexico while avoiding real emotional connection, performing normalcy instead of intimacy
Development
Continuation of characters using social scripts to avoid vulnerability
In Your Life:
You might catch yourself making small talk with someone you deeply care about because real conversation feels too risky.
Competing Desires
In This Chapter
Edna is torn between her longing for Robert and her physical relationship with Arobin, unable to fully commit to either
Development
Intensification of Edna's struggle to balance different types of connection
In Your Life:
You might find yourself wanting different things from different people, unable to find everything you need in one relationship.
Unspoken Communication
In This Chapter
The tension between Robert and Arobin communicates more than their words, with Arobin's casual dominance making Robert retreat
Development
Continuation of characters communicating through subtext rather than direct conversation
In Your Life:
You might notice how much gets communicated through what people don't say, especially in uncomfortable social situations.
You now have the context. Time to form your own thoughts.
Discussion Questions
- 1
Why does the dinner between Edna and Robert feel so awkward and distant, even though they've both been longing to see each other?
analysis • surface - 2
What does Robert's evasiveness about the Mexican woman and the tobacco pouch reveal about how he's changed during his absence?
analysis • medium - 3
Where do you see this pattern of 'phantom intimacy' in modern relationships - feeling closer to someone when they're absent than when they're present?
application • medium - 4
How can you tell the difference between genuine connection and the idealized version of someone you create in their absence?
application • deep - 5
What does this chapter reveal about why we sometimes feel safer loving the idea of someone rather than the real person in front of us?
reflection • deep
Critical Thinking Exercise
Test Your Phantom Intimacy
Think of someone you feel close to primarily through texts, calls, or social media but rarely see in person. Write down three specific things you 'know' about them and three conversations you imagine having. Then honestly assess: how much of this connection exists in your head versus reality?
Consider:
- •Notice the difference between what they actually tell you versus what you assume about them
- •Consider whether your imagined conversations are realistic or idealized versions
- •Reflect on whether you'd feel comfortable sharing something vulnerable with them face-to-face
Journaling Prompt
Write about a time when meeting someone in person felt disappointing after feeling connected to them from a distance. What did you learn about the difference between longing and actual compatibility?
Coming Up Next...
Chapter 35: Hope, Disappointment, and Dangerous Distractions
Edna's restless night leads to a moment of clarity about what she truly wants from life. A final confrontation with Robert will force both of them to face the truth about their feelings and the impossible nature of their situation.
