Пані Боварі

Chapter 8

           "Tothinkthatnotoneofthesepeopleiscapableofunderstandingeventhecutofacoat!"

           Thentheytalkedaboutprovincialmediocrity,ofthelivesitcrushed,theillusionslostthere.

           "AndItoo,"saidRodolphe,"amdriftingintodepression."

           "You!"shesaidinastonishment;"Ithoughtyouverylight-hearted."

           "Ah!yes.Iseemso,becauseinthemidstoftheworldIknowhowtowearthemaskofascofferuponmyface;andyet,howmanyatimeatthesightofacemeterybymoonlighthaveInotaskedmyselfwhetheritwerenotbettertojointhosesleepingthere!"

           "Oh!andyourfriends?"shesaid."Youdonotthinkofthem."

           "Myfriends!Whatfriends?HaveIany?Whocaresforme?"Andheaccompaniedthelastwordswithakindofwhistlingofthelips.

           Buttheywereobligedtoseparatefromeachotherbecauseofagreatpileofchairsthatamanwascarryingbehindthem.Hewassooverladenwiththemthatonecouldonlyseethetipsofhiswoodenshoesandtheendsofhistwooutstretchedarms.ItwasLestiboudois,thegravedigger,whowascarryingthechurchchairsaboutamongstthepeople.Alivetoallthatconcernedhisinterests,hehadhituponthismeansofturningtheshowtoaccount;andhisideawassucceeding,forhenolongerknewwhichwaytoturn.Infact,thevillagers,whowerehot,quarreledfortheseseats,whosestrawsmeltofincense,andtheyleantagainstthethickbacks,stainedwiththewaxofcandles,withacertainveneration.

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