She held up her hands, strong, shapely hands, and surveyed them critically, drawing up her fawn sleeves above the wrists. "You are burnt beyond recognition," he added, looking at his wife as one looks at a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some damage. That was why the morning seemed long to him. He himself had taken a plunge at daylight. "What folly! to bathe at such an hour in such heat!" exclaimed Mr. When they reached the cottage, t he two seated themselves with some appearance of fatigue upon the upper step of the porch, facing each other, each leaning against a supporting post. Beneath its pink-lined shelter were his wife, Mrs. The sunshade continued to approach slowly. The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue of the horizon. He could see it plainly between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of yellow camomile. He fixed his gaze upon a white sunshade that was advancing at snail's pace from the beach. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke, letting t he paper drag idly from his hand. A quadroon nurse followed them about with a faraway, meditative air. Pontellier's two children were there sturdy little fellows of four and five. Some young people were out under the wateroaks playing croquet. A good many persons of the pension had gone over to the Cheniere Caminada in Beaudelet's lugger to hear mass. Farther down, before one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down, telling her beads. Her starched skirts crinkled as she came and went. She was a fresh, pretty woman, clad always in white with elbow sleeves. Madame Lebrun was bustling in and out, giving orders in a high key to a yard-boy whenever she got inside the house, and directions in an equally high voice to a dining-room servant whenever she got outside. Two young girls, the Farival twins, were playing a duet from "Zampa" upon the piano. The chattering and whistling birds were still at it. The main building was called "the house," to distinguish it from the cottages. There was more noise than ever over at the house. Once in a while he withdrew his glance from the newspaper and looked about him. His beard was neatly and closely trimmed. His hair was brown and straight, parted on one side. He was a man of forty, of medium height and rather slender build he stooped a little. He was already acquainted with the market reports, and he glanced restlessly over the editorials and bits of news which he had not had time to read before quitting New Orleans the day before. The Sunday papers had not yet reached Grand Isle. The day was Sunday the paper was a day old. Seating himself in a wicker rocker which was there, he once more applied himself to the task of reading the newspaper. He stopped before the door of his own cottage, which was the fourth one from the main building and next to the last.
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