He stopped before the door of his own cottage, which was the fourth one from the main building and next to the last. Pontellier had the privilege of quitting their society when they ceased to be entertaining. The parrot and the mockingbird were the property of Madame Lebrun, and they had the right to make all the noise they wished. He had been seated before the door of the main house. He walked down the gallery and across the narrow bridges which connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other. Pontellier, unable to read his newspaper with any degree of comfort, arose with an expression and an exclamation of disgust. He could speak a little Spanish, and also a language which nobody understood, unless it was the mocking-bird that hung on the other side of the door, whistling his fluty notes out upon the breeze with maddening persistence. Ī green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept repeating over and over:Īllez vous-en! Allez vous-en! Sapristi! That’s all right!
The Awakening, and Selected Short Stories Kate Chopin.
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