Пані Боварі

Chapter 7

           Shesentthepatients’accountsinwell-phrasedlettersthathadnosuggestionofabill.WhentheyhadaneighbourtodinneronSundays,shemanagedtohavesometastydish—pileduppyramidsofgreengagesonvineleaves,serveduppreservesturnedoutintoplates—andevenspokeofbuyingfinger-glassesfordessert.FromallthismuchconsiderationwasextendedtoBovary.

           Charlesfinishedbyrisinginhisownesteemforpossessingsuchawife.Heshowedwithprideinthesittingroomtwosmallpencilsketchedbyherthathehadhadframedinverylargeframes,andhungupagainstthewallpaperbylonggreencords.Peoplereturningfrommasssawhimathisdoorinhiswool-workslippers.

           Hecamehomelate—atteno’clock,atmidnightsometimes.Thenheaskedforsomethingtoeat,andastheservanthadgonetobed,Emmawaitedonhim.Hetookoffhiscoattodinemoreathisease.Hetoldher,oneaftertheother,thepeoplehehadmet,thevillageswherehehadbeen,theprescriptionshahadwritten,and,wellpleasedwithhimself,hefinishedtheremainderoftheboiledbeefandonions,pickedpiecesoffthecheese,munchedanapple,emptiedhiswater-bottle,andthenwenttobed,andlayonhisbackandsnored.

           Ashehadbeenforatimeaccustomedtowearnightcaps,hishandkerchiefwouldnotkeepdownoverhisears,sothathishairinthemorningwasalltumbledpell-mellabouthisfaceandwhitenedwiththefeathersofthepillow,whosestringscameuntiedduringthenight.

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