第18章

Theyhadall，MonsieurandMadameBovary，Homais，andMonsieurLeon，gonetoseeayarn-millthatwasbeingbuiltinthevalleyamileandahalffromYonville。ThedruggisthadtakenNapoleonandAthalietogivethemsomeexercise，andJustinaccompaniedthem，carryingtheumbrellasonhisshoulder。

Nothing，however，couldbelesscuriousthanthiscuriosity。A

greatpieceofwasteground，onwhichpell-mell，amidamassofsandandstones，wereafewbreak-wheels，alreadyrusty，surroundedbyaquadrangularbuildingpiercedbyanumberoflittlewindows。Thebuildingwasunfinished；theskycouldbeseenthroughthejoistsoftheroofing。Attachedtothestop-plankofthegableabunchofstrawmixedwithcorn-earsfluttereditstricolouredribbonsinthewind。

Homaiswastalking。Heexplainedtothecompanythefutureimportanceofthisestablishment，computedthestrengthofthefloorings，thethicknessofthewalls，andregrettedextremelynothavingayard-sticksuchasMonsieurBinetpossessedforhisownspecialuse。

Emma，whohadtakenhisarm，bentlightlyagainsthisshoulder，andshelookedatthesun’sdiscsheddingafarthroughthemisthispalesplendour。Sheturned。Charleswasthere。Hiscapwasdrawndownoverhiseyebrows，andhistwothicklipsweretrembling，whichaddedalookofstupiditytohisface；hisveryback，hiscalmback，wasirritatingtobehold，andshesawwrittenuponhiscoatalltheplatitudeofthebearer。

Whileshewasconsideringhimthus，tastinginherirritationasortofdepravedpleasure，Leonmadeastepforward。Thecoldthatmadehimpaleseemedtoaddamoregentlelanguortohisface；betweenhiscravatandhisneckthesomewhatloosecollarofhisshirtshowedtheskin；thelobeofhisearlookedoutfrombeneathalockofhair，andhislargeblueeyes，raisedtotheclouds，seemedtoEmmamorelimpidandmorebeautifulthanthosemountain-lakeswheretheheavensaremirrored。

“Wretchedboy!“suddenlycriedthechemist。

Andherantohisson，whohadjustprecipitatedhimselfintoaheapoflimeinordertowhitenhisboots。AtthereproacheswithwhichhewasbeingoverwhelmedNapoleonbegantoroar，whileJustindriedhisshoeswithawispofstraw。Butaknifewaswanted；Charlesofferedhis。

“Ah!“shesaidtoherself，“hecarriedaknifeinhispocketlikeapeasant。“

Thehoar-frostwasfalling，andtheyturnedbacktoYonville。

IntheeveningMadameBovarydidnotgotoherneighbour’s，andwhenCharleshadleftandshefeltherselfalone，thecomparisonre-beganwiththeclearnessofasensationalmostactual，andwiththatlengtheningofperspectivewhichmemorygivestothings。Lookingfromherbedatthecleanfirethatwasburning，shestillsaw，asshehaddownthere，Leonstandingupwithonehandbehindhiscane，andwiththeotherholdingAthalie，whowasquietlysuckingapieceofice。Shethoughthimcharming；shecouldnottearherselfawayfromhim；sherecalledhisotherattitudesonotherdays，thewordshehadspoken，thesoundofhisvoice，hiswholeperson；andsherepeated，poutingoutherlipsasifforakiss——

“Yes，charming!charming!Ishenotinlove？“sheaskedherself；

“butwithwhom？Withme？“

Alltheproofsarosebeforeheratonce；herheartleapt。Theflameofthefirethrewajoyouslightupontheceiling；sheturnedonherback，stretchingoutherarms。

Thenbegantheeternallamentation：“Oh，ifHeavenhadoutwilledit!Andwhynot？Whatpreventedit？“

WhenCharlescamehomeatmidnight，sheseemedtohavejustawakened，andashemadeanoiseundressing，shecomplainedofaheadache，thenaskedcarelesslywhathadhappenedthatevening。

“MonsieurLeon，“hesaid，“wenttohisroomearly。“

Shecouldnothelpsmiling，andshefellasleep，hersoulfilledwithanewdelight。

Thenextday，atdusk，shereceivedavisitfromMonsieurLherueux，thedraper。Hewasamanofability，wasthisshopkeeper。BornaGasconbutbredaNorman，hegrafteduponhissouthernvolubilitythecunningoftheCauchois。Hisfat，flabby，beardlessfaceseemeddyedbyadecoctionofliquorice，andhiswhitehairmadeevenmorevividthekeenbrillianceofhissmallblackeyes。Nooneknewwhathehadbeenformerly；apedlarsaidsome，abankeratRoutotaccordingtoothers。WhatwascertainwasthathemadecomplexcalculationsinhisheadthatwouldhavefrightenedBinethimself。Politetoobsequiousness，healwaysheldhimselfwithhisbackbentinthepositionofonewhobowsorwhoinvites。

Afterleavingatthedoorhishatsurroundedwithcrape，heputdownagreenbandboxonthetable，andbeganbycomplainingtomadame，withmanycivilities，thatheshouldhaveremainedtillthatdaywithoutgainingherconfidence。Apoorshoplikehiswasnotmadetoattracta“fashionablelady“；heemphasizedthewords；yetshehadonlytocommand，andhewouldundertaketoprovideherwithanythingshemightwish，eitherinhaberdasheryorlinen，millineryorfancygoods，forhewenttotownregularlyfourtimesamonth。Hewasconnectedwiththebesthouses。Youcouldspeakofhimatthe“TroisFreres，“atthe“Barbed’Or，“oratthe“GrandSauvage“；allthesegentlemenknewhimaswellastheinsidesoftheirpockets。To-day，thenhehadcometoshowmadame，inpassing，variousarticleshehappenedtohave，thankstothemostrareopportunity。Andhepulledouthalf-a-dozenembroideredcollarsfromthebox。

MadameBovaryexaminedthem。“Idonotrequireanything，“shesaid。

ThenMonsieurLheureuxdelicatelyexhibitedthreeAlgerianscarves，severalpacketofEnglishneedles，apairofstrawslippers，andfinally，foureggcupsincocoanutwood，carvedinopenworkbyconvicts。Then，withbothhandsonthetable，hisneckstretchedout，hisfigurebentforward，open-mouthed，hewatchedEmma’slook，whowaswalkingupanddownundecidedamidthesegoods。Fromtimetotime，asiftoremovesomedust，hefillipedwithhisnailthesilkofthescarvesspreadoutatfulllength，andtheyrustledwithalittlenoise，makinginthegreentwilightthegoldspanglesoftheirtissuescintillatelikelittlestars。

“Howmucharethey？“

“Amerenothing，“hereplied，“amerenothing。Butthere’snohurry；wheneverit’sconvenient。WearenotJews。“

Shereflectedforafewmoments，andendedbyagaindecliningMonsieurLheureux’soffer。Herepliedquiteunconcernedly——

“Verywell。Weshallunderstandoneanotherbyandby。Ihavealwaysgotonwithladies——ifIdidn’twithmyown!“

Emmasmiled。

“Iwantedtotellyou，“hewentongood-naturedly，afterhisjoke，“thatitisn’tthemoneyIshouldtroubleabout。Why，I

couldgiveyousome，ifneedbe。“

Shemadeagestureofsurprise。

“Ah!“saidhequicklyandinalowvoice，“Ishouldn’thavetogofartofindyousome，relyonthat。“

AndhebeganaskingafterPereTellier，theproprietorofthe“CafeFrancais，“whomMonsieurBovarywasthenattending。

“What’sthematterwithPereTellier？Hecoughssothatheshakeshiswholehouse，andI’mafraidhe’llsoonwantadealcoveringratherthanaflannelvest。Hewassucharakeasayoungman!

Thosesortofpeople，madame，havenottheleastregularity；he’sburntupwithbrandy。Stillit’ssad，allthesame，toseeanacquaintancegooff。“

Andwhilehefasteneduphisboxhediscoursedaboutthedoctor’spatients。

“It’stheweather，nodoubt，“hesaid，lookingfrowninglyatthefloor，“thatcausestheseillnesses。I，too，don’tfeelthething。OneofthesedaysIshallevenhavetoconsultthedoctorforapainIhaveinmyback。Well，good-bye，MadameBovary。Atyourservice；yourveryhumbleservant。“Andheclosedthedoorgently。

Emmahadherdinnerservedinherbedroomonatraybythefireside；shewasalongtimeoverit；everythingwaswellwithher。

“HowgoodIwas!“shesaidtoherself，thinkingofthescarves。

Sheheardsomestepsonthestairs。ItwasLeon。Shegotupandtookfromthechestofdrawersthefirstpileofdusterstobehemmed。Whenhecameinsheseemedverybusy。

Theconversationlanguished；MadameBovarygaveitupeveryfewminutes，whilsthehimselfseemedquiteembarrassed。Seatedonalowchairnearthefire，heturnedroundinhisfingerstheivorythimble-case。Shestitchedon，orfromtimetotimeturneddownthehemoftheclothwithhernail。Shedidnotspeak；hewassilent，captivatedbyhersilence，ashewouldhavebeenbyherspeech。

“Poorfellow!“shethought。

“HowhaveIdispleasedher？“heaskedhimself。

Atlast，however，Leonsaidthatheshouldhave，oneofthesedays，togotoRouenonsomeofficebusiness。

“Yourmusicsubscriptionisout；amItorenewit？“

“No，“shereplied。

“Why？“

“Because——“

Andpursingherlipssheslowlydrewalongstitchofgreythread。

ThisworkirritatedLeon。Itseemedtoroughentheendsofherfingers。Agallantphrasecameintohishead，buthedidnotriskit。

“Thenyouaregivingitup？“hewenton。

“What？“sheaskedhurriedly。“Music？Ah!yes!HaveInotmyhousetolookafter，myhusbandtoattendto，athousandthings，infact，manydutiesthatmustbeconsideredfirst？“