按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Bovary sprang to lift her up； broke the bell…rope； called for the
servant with all her might； and she was just going to curse
herself when Charles appeared。 It was the dinner…hour； he had
come home。
〃Look； dear！〃 said Emma； in a calm voice； 〃the little one fell
down while she was playing； and has hurt herself。〃
Charles reassured her； the case was not a serious one； and he
went for some sticking plaster。
Madame Bovary did not go downstairs to the dining…room； she
wished to remain alone to look after the child。 Then watching her
sleep； the little anxiety she felt gradually wore off； and she
seemed very stupid to herself； and very good to have been so
worried just now at so little。 Berthe； in fact； no longer sobbed。
Her breathing now imperceptibly raised the cotton covering。 Big
tears lay in the corner of the half…closed eyelids； through whose
lashes one could see two pale sunken pupils； the plaster stuck on
her cheek drew the skin obliquely。
〃It is very strange；〃 thought Emma； 〃how ugly this child is！〃
When at eleven o'clock Charles came back from the chemist's shop；
whither he had gone after dinner to return the remainder of the
sticking…plaster； he found his wife standing by the cradle。
〃I assure you it's nothing。〃 he said； kissing her on the
forehead。 〃Don't worry； my poor darling； you will make yourself
ill。〃
He had stayed a long time at the chemist's。 Although he had not
seemed much moved； Homais； nevertheless； had exerted himself to
buoy him up； to 〃keep up his spirits。〃 Then they had talked of
the various dangers that threaten childhood； of the carelessness
of servants。 Madame Homais knew something of it； having still
upon her chest the marks left by a basin full of soup that a cook
had formerly dropped on her pinafore； and her good parents took
no end of trouble for her。 The knives were not sharpened； nor the
floors waxed； there were iron gratings to the windows and strong
bars across the fireplace； the little Homais； in spite of their
spirit； could not stir without someone watching them； at the
slightest cold their father stuffed them with pectorals； and
until they were turned four they all； without pity； had to wear
wadded head…protectors。 This； it is true； was a fancy of Madame
Homais'； her husband was inwardly afflicted at it。 Fearing the
possible consequences of such compression to the intellectual
organs。 He even went so far as to say to her； 〃Do you want to
make Caribs or Botocudos of them？〃
Charles； however； had several times tried to interrupt the
conversation。 〃I should like to speak to you；〃 he had whispered
in the clerk's ear； who went upstairs in front of him。
〃Can he suspect anything？〃 Leon asked himself。 His heart beat；
and he racked his brain with surmises。
At last； Charles； having shut the door； asked him to see himself
what would be the price at Rouen of a fine daguerreotypes。 It was
a sentimental surprise he intended for his wife； a delicate
attentionhis portrait in a frock…coat。 But he wanted first to
know 〃how much it would be。〃 The inquiries would not put Monsieur
Leon out； since he went to town almost every week。
Why？ Monsieur Homais suspected some 〃young man's affair〃 at the
bottom of it； an intrigue。 But he was mistaken。 Leon was after no
love…making。 He was sadder than ever； as Madame Lefrancois saw
from the amount of food he left on his plate。 To find out more
about it she questioned the tax…collector。 Binet answered roughly
that he 〃wasn't paid by the police。〃
All the same； his companion seemed very strange to him； for Leon
often threw himself back in his chair； and stretching out his
arms。 Complained vaguely of life。
〃It's because you don't take enough recreation；〃 said the
collector。
〃What recreation？〃
〃If I were you I'd have a lathe。〃
〃But I don't know how to turn；〃 answered the clerk。
〃Ah！ that's true；〃 said the other； rubbing his chin with an air
of mingled contempt and satisfaction。
Leon was weary of loving without any result； moreover he was
beginning to feel that depression caused by the repetition of the
same kind of life； when no interest inspires and no hope sustains
it。 He was so bored with Yonville and its inhabitants； that the
sight of certain persons； of certain houses； irritated him beyond
endurance； and the chemist； good fellow though he was； was
becoming absolutely unbearable to him。 Yet the prospect of a new
condition of life frightened as much as it seduced him。
This apprehension soon changed into impatience； and then Paris
from afar sounded its fanfare of masked balls with the laugh of
grisettes。 As he was to finish reading there； why not set out at
once？ What prevented him？ And he began making home…preparations；
he arranged his occupations beforehand。 He furnished in his head
an apartment。 He would lead an artist's life there！ He would take
lessons on the guitar！ He would have a dressing…gown； a Basque
cap； blue velvet slippers！ He even already was admiring two
crossed foils over his chimney…piece； with a death's head on the
guitar above them。
The difficulty was the consent of his mother； nothing； however；
seemed more reasonable。 Even his employer advised him to go to
some other chambers where he could advance more rapidly。 Taking a
middle course； then； Leon looked for some place as second clerk
at Rouen； found none； and at last wrote his mother a long letter
full of details； in which he set forth the reasons for going to
live at Paris immediately。 She consented。
He did not hurry。 Every day for a month Hivert carried boxes；
valises； parcels for him from Yonville to Rouen and from Rouen to
Yonville； and when Leon had packed up his wardrobe； had his three
arm…chairs restuffed； bought a stock of neckties； in a word； had
made more preparations than for a voyage around the world； he put
it off from week to week； until he received a second letter from
his mother urging him to leave； since he wanted to pass his
examination before the vacation。
When the moment for the farewells had come； Madame Homais wept；
Justin sobbed； Homais； as a man of nerve； concealed his emotion；
he wished to carry his friend's overcoat himself as far as the
gate of the notary； who was taking Leon to Rouen in his carriage。
The latter had just time to bid farewell to Monsieur Bovary。
When he reached the head of the stairs； he stopped； he was so out
of breath。 As he came in； Madame Bovary arose hurriedly。
〃It is I again！〃 said Leon。
〃I was sure of it！〃
She bit her lips； and a rush of blood flowing under her skin made
her red from the roots of her hair to the top of her collar。 She
remained standing； leaning with her shoulder against the
wainscot。
〃The doctor is not here？〃 he went on。
〃He is out。〃 She repeated； 〃He is out。〃
Then there was silence。 They looked at one another and their
thoughts； confounded in the same agony； clung close together like
two throbbing breasts。
〃I should like to kiss Berthe；〃 said Leon。
Emma went down a few steps and called Felicite。
He threw one long look around him that took in the walls； the
decorations； the fireplace； as if to penetrate everything； carry
away everything。 But she returned； and the servant brought
Berthe； who was swinging a windmill roof downw