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The AwakeningChapter 28 of 39
The Awakening 39 chapters · about 4 hr
  1. 1 Chapter I 5 min
  2. 2 Chapter II 3 min
  3. 3 Chapter III 6 min
  4. 4 Chapter IV 5 min
  5. 5 Chapter V 6 min
  6. 6 Chapter VI 2 min
  7. 7 Chapter VII 12 min
  8. 8 Chapter VIII 6 min
  9. 9 Chapter IX 8 min
  10. 10 Chapter X 8 min
  11. 11 Chapter XI 3 min
  12. 12 Chapter XII 6 min
  13. 13 Chapter XIII 8 min
  14. 14 Chapter XIV 3 min
  15. 15 Chapter XV 10 min
  16. 16 Chapter XVI 8 min
  17. 17 Chapter XVII 7 min
  18. 18 Chapter XVIII 7 min
  19. 19 Chapter XIX 4 min
  20. 20 Chapter XX 7 min
  21. 21 Chapter XXI 6 min
  22. 22 Chapter XXII 6 min
  23. 23 Chapter XXIII 8 min
  24. 24 Chapter XXIV 5 min
  25. 25 Chapter XXV 9 min
  26. 26 Chapter XXVI 9 min
  27. 27 Chapter XXVII 3 min
  28. 28 Chapter XXVIII Reading 1 min
  29. 29 Chapter XXIX 4 min
  30. 30 Chapter XXX 10 min
  31. 31 Chapter XXXI 4 min
  32. 32 Chapter XXXII 4 min
  33. 33 Chapter XXXIII 10 min
  34. 34 Chapter XXXIV 5 min
  35. 35 Chapter XXXV 4 min
  36. 36 Chapter XXXVI 8 min
  37. 37 Chapter XXXVII 4 min
  38. 38 Chapter XXXVIII 4 min
  39. 39 Chapter XXXIX 7 min

The Awakening Chapter 28 of 39 1 min read 18+

Chapter XXVIII

Pagehush Classics Follow
Content warnings: Sexual content · Suicide

🎧 Audio coming soon. This chapter is being read aloud now. Listen will appear here when it’s ready.

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 look 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.

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