Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 2

           Seeinghersotaciturn,Charlesimaginedhermuchaffected,andforcedhimselftosaynothing,nottoreawakenthissorrowwhichmovedhim.And,shakingoffhisown

           "Didyouenjoyyourselfyesterday?"heasked.

           "Yes."

           Whentheclothwasremoved,Bovarydidnotrise,nordidEmma;andasshelookedathim,themonotonyofthespectacledrovelittlebylittleallpityfromherheart.Heseemedtoherpaltry,weak,acipherinaword,apoorthingineveryway.Howtogetridofhim?Whataninterminableevening!Somethingstupefyinglikethefumesofopiumseizedher.

           Theyheardinthepassagethesharpnoiseofawoodenlegontheboards.ItwasHippolytebringingbackEmma’sluggage.Inordertoputitdownhedescribedpainfullyaquarterofacirclewithhisstump.

           "Hedoesn’tevenrememberanymoreaboutit,"shethought,lookingatthepoordevil,whosecoarseredhairwaswetwithperspiration.

           Bovarywassearchingatthebottomofhispurseforacentime,andwithoutappearingtounderstandalltherewasofhumiliationforhiminthemerepresenceofthisman,whostoodtherelikeapersonifiedreproachtohisincurableincapacity.

           "Hallo!you’veaprettybouquet,"hesaid,noticingLeon’svioletsonthechimney.

           "Yes,"sherepliedindifferently;"it’sabouquetIboughtjustnowfromabeggar."

           Charlespickeduptheflowers,andfresheninghiseyes,redwithtears,againstthem,smeltthemdelicately.

           Shetookthemquicklyfromhishandandputtheminaglassofwater.

           ThenextdayMadameBovaryseniorarrived.

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