Short Fiction Kate Chopin (best e reader for android .txt) đ
- Author: Kate Chopin
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âYou know, last year in Assumption, Calixta?â They belonged to the younger generation, so preferred to speak English.
âDonât come say Assumption to me, Mâsieur AlcĂ©e. I done yeard Assumption till Iâm plumb sick.â
âYes, I know. The idiots! Because you were in Assumption, and I happened to go to Assumption, they must have it that we went together. But it was niceâ âhein, Calixta?â âin Assumption?â
They saw BobinĂŽt emerge from the hall and stand a moment outside the lighted doorway, peering uneasily and searchingly into the darkness. He did not see them, and went slowly back.
âThere is BobinĂŽt looking for you. You are going to set poor BobinĂŽt crazy. Youâll marry him some day; hein, Calixta?â
âI donât say no, me,â she replied, striving to withdraw her hand, which he held more, firmly for the attempt.
âBut come, Calixta; you know you said you would go back to Assumption, just to spite them.â
âNo, I neva said that, me. You musâ dreamt that.â
âOh, I thought you did. You know Iâm going down to the city.â
âWâen?â
âTonight.â
âBetta make hasâe, then; itâs mosâ day.â
âWell, tomorrowâll do.â
âWâat you goinâ do, yonda?â
âI donât know. Drown myself in the lake, maybe; unless you go down there to visit your uncle.â
Calixtaâs senses were reeling; and they well-nigh left her when she felt AlcĂ©eâs lips brush her ear like the touch of a rose.
âMista AlcĂ©e! Is dat Mista AlcĂ©e?â the thick voice of a negro was asking; he stood on the ground, holding to the banister-rails near which the couple sat.
âWâat do you want now?â cried AlcĂ©e impatiently. âCanât I have a moment of peace?â
âI ben huntinâ you high anâ low, suh,â answered the man. âDeyâ âdey someone in de road, onda de mulbare-tree, want see you a minute.â
âI wouldnât go out to the road to see the Angel Gabriel. And if you come back here with any more talk, Iâll have to break your neck.â The negro turned mumbling away.
Alcée and Calixta laughed softly about it. Her boisterousness was all gone. They talked low, and laughed softly, as lovers do.
âAlcĂ©e! AlcĂ©e LaballiĂšre!â
It was not the negroâs voice this time; but one that went through AlcĂ©eâs body like an electric shock, bringing him to his feet.
Clarisse was standing there in her riding-habit, where the negro had stood. For an instant confusion reigned in AlcĂ©eâs thoughts, as with one who awakes suddenly from a dream. But he felt that something of serious import had brought his cousin to the ball in the dead of night.
âWâat does this mean, Clarisse?â he asked.
âIt means something has happenâ at home. You musâ come.â
âHappened to maman?â he questioned, in alarm.
âNo; nĂ©naine is well, and asleep. It is something else. Not to frighten you. But you musâ come. Come with me, AlcĂ©e.â
There was no need for the imploring note. He would have followed the voice anywhere.
She had now recognized the girl sitting back on the bench.
âAh, câest vous, Calixta? Comment ça va, mon enfant?â
âTcha va bâen; et vous, mamâzĂ©lle?â
AlcĂ©e swung himself over the low rail and started to follow Clarisse, without a word, without a glance back at the girl. He had forgotten he was leaving her there. But Clarisse whispered something to him, and he turned back to say âGood night, Calixta,â and offer his hand to press through the railing. She pretended not to see it.
âHow come that? You settinâ yere by yoâseâf, Calixta?â It was BobinĂŽt who had found her there alone. The dancers had not yet come out. She looked ghastly in the faint, gray light struggling out of the east.
âYes, thatâs me. Go yonda in the parc aux petits anâ ask Aunt Olisse fuâ my hat. She knows wâere ât is. I want to go home, me.â
âHow you came?â
âI come afoot, with the Cateaus. But Iâm goinâ now. I ent goinâ wait fuâ âem. Iâm plumb weâ out, me.â
âKin I go with you, Calixta?â
âI donâ care.â
They went together across the open prairie and along the edge of the fields, stumbling in the uncertain light. He told her to lift her dress that was getting wet and bedraggled; for she was pulling at the weeds and grasses with her hands.
âI donâ care; itâs got to go in the tub, anyway. You been sayinâ all along you want to marry me, BobinĂŽt. Well, if you want, yet, I donâ care, me.â
The glow of a sudden and overwhelming happiness shone out in the brown, rugged face of the young Acadian. He could not speak, for very joy. It choked him.
âOh well, if you donâ want,â snapped Calixta, flippantly, pretending to be piqued at his silence.
âBon Dieu! You know that makes me crazy, wâat you sayinâ. You mean that, Calixta? You ent goinâ turn rounâ agin?â
âI neva tole you that much yet, BobinĂŽt. I mean that. Tiens,â and she held out her hand in the businesslike manner of a man who clinches a bargain with a handclasp. BobinĂŽt grew bold with happiness and asked Calixta to kiss him. She turned her face, that was almost ugly after the nightâs dissipation, and looked steadily into his.
âI donâ want to kiss you, BobinĂŽt,â she said, turning away again, ânot today. Some other time. BontĂ© divine! ent you satisfy, yet!â
âOh, Iâm satisfy, Calixta,â he said.
Riding through a patch of wood, Clarisseâs saddle became ungirted, and she and AlcĂ©e dismounted to readjust it.
For the twentieth time he asked her what had happened at home.
âBut, Clarisse, wâat is it? Is it a misfortune?â
âAh Dieu sait! Itâs only something that happenâ to me.â
âTo you!â
âI saw you go away lasâ night, AlcĂ©e, with those saddlebags,â
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