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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 106/303
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She
did
not
present
herself
,
and
one
could
hear
voices
whispering
--
"
Go
up
!
"
"
Do
n't
be
afraid
!
"
"
Oh
,
how
stupid
she
is
!
"
"
Well
,
is
she
there
?
"
cried
Tuvache
.
"
Yes
;
here
she
is
.
"
"
Then
let
her
come
up
!
"
Then
there
came
forward
on
the
platform
a
little
old
woman
with
timid
bearing
,
who
seemed
to
shrink
within
her
poor
clothes
.
On
her
feet
she
wore
heavy
wooden
clogs
,
and
from
her
hips
hung
a
large
blue
apron
.
Her
pale
face
framed
in
a
borderless
cap
was
more
wrinkled
than
a
withered
russet
apple
.
And
from
the
sleeves
of
her
red
jacket
looked
out
two
large
hands
with
knotty
joints
,
the
dust
of
barns
,
the
potash
of
washing
the
grease
of
wools
had
so
encrusted
,
roughened
,
hardened
these
that
they
seemed
dirty
,
although
they
had
been
rinsed
in
clear
water
;
and
by
dint
of
long
service
they
remained
half
open
,
as
if
to
bear
humble
witness
for
themselves
of
so
much
suffering
endured
.
Something
of
monastic
rigidity
dignified
her
face
.
Nothing
of
sadness
or
of
emotion
weakened
that
pale
look
.
In
her
constant
living
with
animals
she
had
caught
their
dumbness
and
their
calm
.
It
was
the
first
time
that
she
found
herself
in
the
midst
of
so
large
a
company
,
and
inwardly
scared
by
the
flags
,
the
drums
,
the
gentlemen
in
frock-coats
,
and
the
order
of
the
councillor
,
she
stood
motionless
,
not
knowing
whether
to
advance
or
run
away
,
nor
why
the
crowd
was
pushing
her
and
the
jury
were
smiling
at
her
.
Thus
stood
before
these
radiant
bourgeois
this
half-century
of
servitude
.
