Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 7

           "Yes,"shemurmured,grindingherteeth,"hewillforgiveme,hewhowouldgiveamillionifIwouldforgivehimforhavingknownme!Never!never!"

           ThisthoughtofBovary’ssuperioritytoherexasperatedher.Then,whethersheconfessedordidnotconfess,presently,immediately,to-morrow,hewouldknowthecatastropheallthesame;soshemustwaitforthishorriblescene,andbeartheweightofhismagnanimity.ThedesiretoreturntoLheureux’sseizedherwhatwouldbetheuse?Towritetoherfatheritwastoolate;andperhaps,shebegantorepentnowthatshehadnotyieldedtothatother,whensheheardthetrotofahorseinthealley.Itwashe;hewasopeningthegate;hewaswhiterthantheplasterwall.Rushingtothestairs,sheranoutquicklytothesquare;andthewifeofthemayor,whowastalkingtoLestiboudoisinfrontofthechurch,sawhergointothetax-collector’s.

           ShehurriedofftotellMadameCaron,andthetwoladieswentuptotheattic,and,hiddenbysomelinenspreadacrossprops,stationedthemselvescomfortablyforoverlookingthewholeofBinet’sroom.

           Hewasaloneinhisgarret,busyimitatinginwoodoneofthoseindescribablebitsofivory,composedofcrescents,ofsphereshollowedoutonewithintheother,thewholeasstraightasanobelisk,andofnousewhatever;andhewasbeginningonthelastpiecehewasnearinghisgoal.

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