Although Léonce does not exhibit any hostility toward Edna on this day, Edna feels hostility emanating from all she sees — "the children, the fruit vender, the flowers . . . were all part and parcel of an alien world which had suddenly become antagonistic" to her independent spirit. Having made the small but significant break with her old world by disregarding her reception day, all has changed for Edna. She can no longer pretend that a placid domesticity suits her.
Madame Ratignolle provides the image of a wife that Léonce desires Edna to maintain: She is "keenly interested in everything [her husband] said, laying down her fork the better to listen." While the Ratignolles seems to have an ideal union, and Madame Ratignolle seems to be eminently fulfilled in her role as a "mother-woman," Edna pities her "for that colorless existence which never uplifted its possessor beyond the region of blind contentment . . . in which she would never have the taste of life's delirium."
Interestingly, as she thinks this thought, Edna ponders the meaning of the phrase "life's delirium," a phrase that seems to come to her out of nowhere. Delirium is a state of extreme excitement often resulting in hallucinations that seem quite real and may be intensely joyful, as in the phrase "deliriously happy." Yet a delirium can also bring pain, as in the violent hallucinations of delirium tremens. Either way, a delirium induces experiences that are not grounded in reality. Furthering this idea is Chopin's description of Edna as "still under the spell of her infatuation" with Robert — like the Gulf spirit whom Edna supposedly captivated, Robert has captured her.
