Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 9

           Thechemistatoncewenttohimandsaid

           "Thisvelvetseemstomeasuperfetation.Besides,theexpense"

           "What’sthattoyou?"criedCharles."Leaveme!Youdidnotloveher.Go!"

           Thepriesttookhimbythearmforaturninthegarden.Hediscoursedonthevanityofearthlythings.Godwasverygreat,wasverygood:onemustsubmittohisdecreeswithoutamurmur;nay,musteventhankhim.

           Charlesburstoutintoblasphemies:"IhateyourGod!"

           "Thespiritofrebellionisstilluponyou,"sighedtheecclesiastic.

           Bovarywasfaraway.Hewaswalkingwithgreatstridesalongbythewall,neartheespalier,andhegroundhisteeth;heraisedtoheavenlooksofmalediction,butnotsomuchasaleafstirred.

           Afinerainwasfalling:Charles,whosechestwasbare,atlastbegantoshiver;hewentinandsatdowninthekitchen.

           Atsixo’clockanoiselikeaclatterofoldironwasheardonthePlace;itwasthe"Hirondelle"comingin,andheremainedwithhisforeheadagainstthewindowpane,watchingallthepassengersgetout,oneaftertheother.Feliciteputdownamattressforhiminthedrawing-room.Hethrewhimselfuponitandfellasleep.

           Althoughaphilosopher,MonsieurHomaisrespectedthedead.SobearingnogrudgetopoorCharles,hecamebackagainintheeveningtositupwiththebody;bringingwithhimthreevolumesandapocket-bookfortakingnotes.

           MonsieurBournisienwasthere,andtwolargecandleswereburningattheheadofthebed,thathadbeentakenoutofthealcove.

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