Пані Боварі

Chapter 13

           "Poorlittlewoman!"hethoughtwithemotion."She’llthinkmeharderthanarock.Thereoughttohavebeensometearsonthis;butIcan’tcry;itisn’tmyfault."Then,havingemptiedsomewaterintoaglass,Rodolphedippedhisfingerintoit,andletabigdropfallonthepaper,thatmadeapalestainontheink.Thenlookingforaseal,hecameupontheone"Amornelcor."

           "Thatdoesn’tatallfitinwiththecircumstances.Pshaw!nevermind!"

           Afterwhichhesmokedthreepipesandwenttobed.

           Thenextdaywhenhewasup(atabouttwoo’clockhehadsleptlate),Rodolphehadabasketofapricotspicked.Heputhisletteratthebottomundersomevineleaves,andatonceorderedGirard,hisploughman,totakeitwithcaretoMadameBovary.Hemadeuseofthismeansforcorrespondingwithher,sendingaccordingtotheseasonfruitsorgame.

           "Ifsheasksafterme,"hesaid,"youwilltellherthatIhavegoneonajourney.Youmustgivethebaskettoherherself,intoherownhands.Getalongandtakecare!"

           Girardputonhisnewblouse,knottedhishandkerchiefroundtheapricots,andwalkingwithgreatheavystepsinhisthickiron-boundgaloshes,madehiswaytoYonville.

           MadameBovary,whenhegottoherhouse,wasarrangingabundleoflinenonthekitchen-tablewithFelicite.

           "Here,"saidtheploughboy,"issomethingforyoufromthemaster."

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