Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 11

           Hesawhimselfdishonoured,ruined,lost;andhisimagination,assailedbyaworldofhypotheses,tossedamongstthemlikeanemptycaskbornebytheseaandfloatinguponthewaves.

           Emma,opposite,watchedhim;shedidnotsharehishumiliation;shefeltanotherthatofhavingsupposedsuchamanwasworthanything.Asiftwentytimesalreadyshehadnotsufficientlyperceivedhismediocrity.

           Charleswaswalkingupanddowntheroom;hisbootscreakedonthefloor.

           "Sitdown,"shesaid;"youfidgetme."

           Hesatdownagain.

           Howwasitthatsheshe,whowassointelligentcouldhaveallowedherselftobedeceivedagain?andthroughwhatdeplorablemadnesshadshethusruinedherlifebycontinualsacrifices?Sherecalledallherinstinctsofluxury,alltheprivationsofhersoul,thesordidnessofmarriage,ofthehousehold,herdreamsinkingintothemirelikewoundedswallows;allthatshehadlongedfor,allthatshehaddeniedherself,allthatshemighthavehad!Andforwhat?forwhat?

           Inthemidstofthesilencethathungoverthevillageaheart-rendingcryroseontheair.Bovaryturnedwhitetofainting.Sheknitherbrowswithanervousgesture,thenwenton.Anditwasforhim,forthiscreature,forthisman,whounderstoodnothing,whofeltnothing!Forhewastherequitequiet,notevensuspectingthattheridiculeofhisnamewouldhenceforthsullyhersaswellashis.

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