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Edna cried a little that night after Arobin left her. It was
only one phase of the multitudinous emotions which had assailed
her. There was with her an overwhelming feeling of
irresponsibility. There was the shock of the unexpected and the
unaccustomed. There was her husband's reproach looking at her from
the external things around her which he had provided for her
external existence. There was Robert's reproach making itself felt
by a quicker, fiercer, more overpowering love, which had awakened
within her toward him. Above all, there was understanding. She
felt as if a mist had been lifted from her eyes, enabling her to
took upon and comprehend the significance of life, that monster
made up of beauty and brutality. But among the conflicting
sensations which assailed her, there was neither shame nor remorse.
There was a dull pang of regret because it was not the kiss of love
which had inflamed her, because it was not love which had held this
cup of life to her lips.
Without even waiting for an answer from her husband regarding
his opinion or wishes in the matter, Edna hastened her preparations
for quitting her home on Esplanade Street and moving into the
little house around the block. A feverish anxiety attended her
every action in that direction. There was no moment of deliberation,
no interval of repose between the thought and its fulfillment.
Early upon the morning following those hours passed in Arobin's society,
Edna set about securing her new abode and hurrying her arrangements
for occupying it. Within the precincts of her home she felt like
one who has entered and lingered within the portals of some
forbidden temple in which a thousand muffled voices bade her begone.
Whatever was her own in the house, everything which she had
acquired aside from her husband's bounty, she caused to be