Госпожа Бовари

Chapter 1

           Thesmallpanesofthenarrowwindowsrattledintheirsasheswhenthecoachwasclosed,andretainedhereandtherepatchesofmudamidtheoldlayersofdust,thatnotevenstormsofrainhadaltogetherwashedaway.Itwasdrawnbythreehorses,thefirstaleader,andwhenitcamedown-hillitsbottomjoltedagainsttheground.

           SomeoftheinhabitantsofYonvillecameoutintothesquare;theyallspokeatonce,askingfornews,forexplanations,forhampers.Hivertdidnotknowwhomtoanswer.Itwashewhodidtheerrandsoftheplaceintown.Hewenttotheshopsandbroughtbackrollsofleatherfortheshoemaker,oldironforthefarrier,abarrelofherringsforhismistress,capsfromthemilliner’s,locksfromthehair-dresser’sandallalongtheroadonhisreturnjourneyhedistributedhisparcels,whichhethrew,standinguprightonhisseatandshoutingatthetopofhisvoice,overtheenclosuresoftheyards.

           Anaccidenthaddelayedhim.MadameBovary’sgreyhoundhadrunacrossthefield.Theyhadwhistledforhimaquarterofanhour;Hiverthadevengonebackamileandahalfexpectingeverymomenttocatchsightofher;butithadbeennecessarytogoon.

           Emmahadwept,grownangry;shehadaccusedCharlesofthismisfortune.MonsieurLheureux,adraper,whohappenedtobeinthecoachwithher,hadtriedtoconsoleherbyanumberofexamplesoflostdogsrecognizingtheirmastersattheendoflongyears.One,hesaidhadbeentoldof,whohadcomebacktoParisfromConstantinople

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