Chapter 15

           Thecrowdwaswaitingagainstthewall,symmetricallyenclosedbetweenthebalustrades.Atthecorneroftheneighbouringstreetshugebillsrepeatedinquaintletters"LuciedeLammermoor-Lagardy-Opera-etc."Theweatherwasfine,thepeoplewerehot,perspirationtrickledamidthecurls,andhandkerchiefstakenfrompocketsweremoppingredforeheads;andnowandthenawarmwindthatblewfromtherivergentlystirredtheborderofthetickawningshangingfromthedoorsofthepublic-houses.Alittlelowerdown,however,onewasrefreshedbyacurrentoficyairthatsmeltoftallow,leather,andoil.ThiswasanexhalationfromtheRuedesCharrettes,fulloflargeblackwarehouseswheretheymadecasks.

           Forfearofseemingridiculous,Emmabeforegoinginwishedtohavealittlestrollintheharbour,andBovaryprudentlykepthisticketsinhishand,inthepocketofhistrousers,whichhepressedagainsthisstomach.

           Herheartbegantobeatassoonasshereachedthevestibule.Sheinvoluntarilysmiledwithvanityonseeingthecrowdrushingtotherightbytheothercorridorwhileshewentupthestaircasetothereservedseats.Shewasaspleasedasachildtopushwithherfingerthelargetapestrieddoor.Shebreathedinwithallhermightthedustysmellofthelobbies,andwhenshewasseatedinherboxshebentforwardwiththeairofaduchess.

           Thetheatrewasbeginningtofill;opera-glassesweretakenfromtheircases,andthesubscribers,catchingsightofoneanother,werebowing.

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