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Your husband. He... he's not here anymore. He... died.
It was her sister Josephine, alongside Richard, Mr. Mallard's best friend, the one that told Mrs. Mallard the news in broken sentences. Her husband had died in a railroad accident.
She wept with sudden, wild abandonment in her sister's arms.
Free, free, free!
Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door-you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door.
She went to her room alone and sat in a comfortable arm-chair, she was exhasuted. She could see the trees and the sky and hear a peddler crying his wares.
Go away. I am not making myself ill.
There was something coming to her but she didn't know what it was. Her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize what was possessing her.
A word suddenly escaped her breath, "free". She said it over and over under her breath with a sharp and keen look of terror. She was going to be free, no one to live for.
Her sister Josephine, kneeling before the door implored for admission. Mrs. Mallrd requested soltitude.
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