Page 114 - madame-bovary

pathy. The Paris theatres, titles of novels, new quadrilles,
and the world they did not know; Tostes, where she had
lived, and Yonville, where they were; they examined all,
talked of everything till to the end of dinner.
When coffee was served Felicite went away to get ready
the room in the new house, and the guests soon raised
the siege. Madame Lefrancois was asleep near the cinders,
while the stable-boy, lantern in hand, was waiting to show
Monsieur and Madame Bovary the way home. Bits of straw
stuck in his red hair, and he limped with his left leg. When
he had taken in his other hand the cure’s umbrella, they
started.
The town was asleep; the pillars of the market threw great
shadows; the earth was all grey as on a summer’s night. But
as the doctor’s house was only some fifty paces from the
inn, they had to say good-night almost immediately, and
the company dispersed.
As soon as she entered the passage, Emma felt the cold
of the plaster fall about her shoulders like damp linen. The
walls were new and the wooden stairs creaked. In their bed-
room, on the first floor, a whitish light passed through the
curtainless windows.
She could catch glimpses of tree tops, and beyond, the
fields, half-drowned in the fog that lay reeking in the moon-
light along the course of the river. In the middle of the room,
pell-mell, were scattered drawers, bottles, curtain-rods,
gilt poles, with mattresses on the chairs and basins on the
ground—the two men who had brought the furniture had
left everything about carelessly.

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