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mantelpiece amid gunflints； candle…ends； and bits of amadou。
Finally； the last luxury in the apartment was a 〃Fame〃 blowing
her trumpets； a picture cut out； no doubt； from some perfumer's
prospectus and nailed to the wall with six wooden shoe…pegs。
Emma's child was asleep in a wicker…cradle。 She took it up in the
wrapping that enveloped it and began singing softly as she rocked
herself to and fro。
Leon walked up and down the room； it seemed strange to him to see
this beautiful woman in her nankeen dress in the midst of all
this poverty。 Madam Bovary reddened； he turned away； thinking
perhaps there had been an impertinent look in his eyes。 Then she
put back the little girl； who had just been sick over her collar。
The nurse at once came to dry her； protesting that it wouldn't
show。
〃She gives me other doses；〃 she said： 〃I am always a…washing of
her。 If you would have the goodness to order Camus； the grocer；
to let me have a little soap； it would really be more convenient
for you； as I needn't trouble you then。〃
〃Very well！ very well！〃 said Emma。 〃Good morning； Madame Rollet；〃
and she went out； wiping her shoes at the door。
The good woman accompanied her to the end of the garden； talking
all the time of the trouble she had getting up of nights。
〃I'm that worn out sometimes as I drop asleep on my chair。 I'm
sure you might at least give me just a pound of ground coffee；
that'd last me a month； and I'd take it of a morning with some
milk。〃
After having submitted to her thanks； Madam Bovary left。 She had
gone a little way down the path when； at the sound of wooden
shoes； she turned round。 It was the nurse。
〃What is it？〃
Then the peasant woman； taking her aside behind an elm tree；
began talking to her of her husband； who with his trade and six
francs a year that the captain
〃Oh； be quick！〃 said Emma。
〃Well；〃 the nurse went on； heaving sighs between each word； 〃I'm
afraid he'll be put out seeing me have coffee along； you know
men〃
〃But you are to have some；〃 Emma repeated； 〃I will give you some。
You bother me！〃
〃Oh； dear！ my poor； dear lady！ you see in consequence of his
wounds he has terrible cramps in the chest。 He even says that
cider weakens him。〃
〃Do make haste； Mere Rollet！〃
〃Well；〃 the latter continued； making a curtsey； 〃if it weren't
asking too much；〃 and she curtsied once more； 〃if you would〃and
her eyes begged〃a jar of brandy；〃 she said at last； 〃and I'd
rub your little one's feet with it； they're as tender as one's
tongue。〃
Once rid of the nurse； Emma again took Monsieur Leon's arm。 She
walked fast for some time； then more slowly； and looking straight
in front of her； her eyes rested on the shoulder of the young
man； whose frock…coat had a black…velvety collar。 His brown hair
fell over it； straight and carefully arranged。 She noticed his
nails which were longer than one wore them at Yonville。 It was
one of the clerk's chief occupations to trim them； and for this
purpose he kept a special knife in his writing desk。
They returned to Yonville by the water…side。 In the warm season
the bank； wider than at other times； showed to their foot the
garden walls whence a few steps led to the river。 It flowed
noiselessly； swift； and cold to the eye； long； thin grasses
huddled together in it as the current drove them； and spread
themselves upon the limpid water like streaming hair； sometimes
at the tip of the reeds or on the leaf of a water…lily an insect
with fine legs crawled or rested。 The sun pierced with a ray the
small blue bubbles of the waves that； breaking； followed each
other； branchless old willows mirrored their grey backs in the
water； beyond； all around； the meadows seemed empty。 It was the
dinner…hour at the farms； and the young woman and her companion
heard nothing as they walked but the fall of their steps on the
earth of the path； the words they spoke； and the sound of Emma's
dress rustling round her。
The walls of the gardens with pieces of bottle on their coping
were hot as the glass windows of a conservatory。 Wallflowers had
sprung up between the bricks； and with the tip of her open
sunshade Madame Bovary； as she passed； made some of their faded
flowers crumble into a yellow dust； or a spray of overhanging
honeysuckle and clematis caught in its fringe and dangled for a
moment over the silk。
They were talking of a troupe of Spanish dancers who were
expected shortly at the Rouen theatre。
〃Are you going？〃 she asked。
〃If I can；〃 he answered。
Had they nothing else to say to one another？ Yet their eyes were
full of more serious speech； and while they forced themselves to
find trivial phrases； they felt the same languor stealing over
them both。 It was the whisper of the soul； deep； continuous；
dominating that of their voices。 Surprised with wonder at this
strange sweetness； they did not think of speaking of the
sensation or of seeking its cause。 Coming joys； like tropical
shores； throw over the immensity before them their inborn
softness； an odorous wind； and we are lulled by this intoxication
without a thought of the horizon that we do not even know。
In one place the ground had been trodden down by the cattle； they
had to step on large green stones put here and there in the mud。
She often stopped a moment to look where to place her foot； and
tottering on a stone that shook； her arms outspread； her form
bent forward with a look of indecision； she would laugh； afraid
of falling into the puddles of water。
When they arrived in front of her garden； Madame Bovary opened
the little gate； ran up the steps and disappeared。
Leon returned to his office。 His chief was away； he just glanced
at the briefs； then cut himself a pen； and at last took up his
hat and went out。
He went to La Pature at the top of the Argueil hills at the
beginning of the forest； he threw himself upon the ground under
the pines and watched the sky through his fingers。
〃How bored I am！〃 he said to himself； 〃how bored I am！〃
He thought he was to be pitied for living in this village； with
Homais for a friend and Monsieru Guillaumin for master。 The
latter； entirely absorbed by his business； wearing gold…rimmed
spectacles and red whiskers over a white cravat； understood
nothing of mental refinements； although he affected a stiff
English manner； which in the beginning had impressed the clerk。
As to the chemist's spouse； she was the best wife in Normandy；
gentle as a sheep； loving her children； her father； her mother；
her cousins； weeping for other's woes； letting everything go in
her household； and detesting corsets； but so slow of movement；
such a bore to listen to； so common in appearance； and of such
restricted conversation； that although she was thirty； he only
twenty； although they slept in rooms next each other and he spoke
to her daily； he never thought that she might be a woman for
another； or that she possessed anything else of her sex than the
gown。
And what else was there？ Binet； a few shopkeepers； two or three
publicans； the cure； and finally； Monsieur Tuvache； the mayor；
with his two sons； rich； crabbed； obtuse persons； who farmed
their own lands and had feasts among themselves； bigoted to boot；
and quite unbearable companions。
But fr