There was something in her attitude, in her whole appearance when she leaned her head against the high-backed chair and spread her arms, which sugges… - Kate Chopin

She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father's voice and her sister Margaret's. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.

She had resolved never again to belong to another than herself.

She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.