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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 21/303
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He
always
wore
thick
boots
that
had
two
long
creases
over
the
instep
running
obliquely
towards
the
ankle
,
while
the
rest
of
the
upper
continued
in
a
straight
line
as
if
stretched
on
a
wooden
foot
.
He
said
that
"
was
quite
good
enough
for
the
country
.
"
His
mother
approved
of
his
economy
,
for
she
came
to
see
him
as
formerly
when
there
had
been
some
violent
row
at
her
place
;
and
yet
Madame
Bovary
senior
seemed
prejudiced
against
her
daughter-in-law
.
She
thought
"
her
ways
too
fine
for
their
position
"
;
the
wood
,
the
sugar
,
and
the
candles
disappeared
as
"
at
a
grand
establishment
,
"
and
the
amount
of
firing
in
the
kitchen
would
have
been
enough
for
twenty-five
courses
.
She
put
her
linen
in
order
for
her
in
the
presses
,
and
taught
her
to
keep
an
eye
on
the
butcher
when
he
brought
the
meat
.
Emma
put
up
with
these
lessons
.
Madame
Bovary
was
lavish
of
them
;
and
the
words
"
daughter
"
and
"
mother
"
were
exchanged
all
day
long
,
accompanied
by
little
quiverings
of
the
lips
,
each
one
uttering
gentle
words
in
a
voice
trembling
with
anger
.
In
Madame
Dubuc
's
time
the
old
woman
felt
that
she
was
still
the
favorite
;
but
now
the
love
of
Charles
for
Emma
seemed
to
her
a
desertion
from
her
tenderness
,
an
encroachment
upon
what
was
hers
,
and
she
watched
her
son
's
happiness
in
sad
silence
,
as
a
ruined
man
looks
through
the
windows
at
people
dining
in
his
old
house
.
She
recalled
to
him
as
remembrances
her
troubles
and
her
sacrifices
,
and
,
comparing
these
with
Emma
's
negligence
,
came
to
the
conclusion
that
it
was
not
reasonable
to
adore
her
so
exclusively
.
Charles
knew
not
what
to
answer
:
he
respected
his
mother
,
and
he
loved
his
wife
infinitely
;
he
considered
the
judgment
of
the
one
infallible
,
and
yet
he
thought
the
conduct
of
the
other
irreproachable
.
When
Madam
Bovary
had
gone
,
he
tried
timidly
and
in
the
same
terms
to
hazard
one
or
two
of
the
more
anodyne
observations
he
had
heard
from
his
mamma
.
Emma
proved
to
him
with
a
word
that
he
was
mistaken
,
and
sent
him
off
to
his
patients
.
And
yet
,
in
accord
with
theories
she
believed
right
,
she
wanted
to
make
herself
in
love
with
him
.
By
moonlight
in
the
garden
she
recited
all
the
passionate
rhymes
she
knew
by
heart
,
and
,
sighing
,
sang
to
him
many
melancholy
adagios
;
but
she
found
herself
as
calm
after
as
before
,
and
Charles
seemed
no
more
amorous
and
no
more
moved
.
When
she
had
thus
for
a
while
struck
the
flint
on
her
heart
without
getting
a
spark
,
incapable
,
moreover
,
of
understanding
what
she
did
not
experience
as
of
believing
anything
that
did
not
present
itself
in
conventional
forms
,
she
persuaded
herself
without
difficulty
that
Charles
's
passion
was
nothing
very
exorbitant
.
His
outbursts
became
regular
;
he
embraced
her
at
certain
fixed
times
.
It
was
one
habit
among
other
habits
,
and
,
like
a
dessert
,
looked
forward
to
after
the
monotony
of
dinner
.
A
gamekeeper
,
cured
by
the
doctor
of
inflammation
of
the
lungs
,
had
given
madame
a
little
Italian
greyhound
;
she
took
her
out
walking
,
for
she
went
out
sometimes
in
order
to
be
alone
for
a
moment
,
and
not
to
see
before
her
eyes
the
eternal
garden
and
the
dusty
road
.
She
went
as
far
as
the
beeches
of
Banneville
,
near
the
deserted
pavilion
which
forms
an
angle
of
the
wall
on
the
side
of
the
country
.
Amidst
the
vegetation
of
the
ditch
there
are
long
reeds
with
leaves
that
cut
you
.
She
began
by
looking
round
her
to
see
if
nothing
had
changed
since
last
she
had
been
there
.
She
found
again
in
the
same
places
the
foxgloves
and
wallflowers
,
the
beds
of
nettles
growing
round
the
big
stones
,
and
the
patches
of
lichen
along
the
three
windows
,
whose
shutters
,
always
closed
,
were
rotting
away
on
their
rusty
iron
bars
.
Her
thoughts
,
aimless
at
first
,
wandered
at
random
,
like
her
greyhound
,
who
ran
round
and
round
in
the
fields
,
yelping
after
the
yellow
butterflies
,
chasing
the
shrew-mice
,
or
nibbling
the
poppies
on
the
edge
of
a
cornfield
.
Then
gradually
her
ideas
took
definite
shape
,
and
,
sitting
on
the
grass
that
she
dug
up
with
little
prods
of
her
sunshade
,
Emma
repeated
to
herself
,
"
Good
heavens
!
Why
did
I
marry
?
"
