Page 135 - madame-bovary

ten occupied; for on Sundays from morning to night, and
every morning when the weather was bright, one could see
at the dormer-window of the garret the profile of Monsieur
Binet bending over his lathe, whose monotonous humming
could be heard at the Lion d’Or.
One evening on coming home Leon found in his room
a rug in velvet and wool with leaves on a pale ground. He
called Madame Homais, Monsieur Homais, Justin, the chil-
dren, the cook; he spoke of it to his chief; every one wanted
to see this rug. Why did the doctor’s wife give the clerk
presents? It looked queer. They decided that she must be
his lover.
He made this seem likely, so ceaselessly did he talk of her
charms and of her wit; so much so, that Binet once roughly
answered him—
‘What does it matter to me since I’m not in her set?’
He tortured himself to find out how he could make his
declaration to her, and always halting between the fear of
displeasing her and the shame of being such a coward, he
wept with discouragement and desire. Then he took ener-
getic resolutions, wrote letters that he tore up, put it off to
times that he again deferred.
Often he set out with the determination to dare all; but
this resolution soon deserted him in Emma’s presence, and
when Charles, dropping in, invited him to jump into his
chaise to go with him to see some patient in the neighbour-
hood, he at once accepted, bowed to madame, and went out.
Her husband, was he not something belonging to her? As
to Emma, she did not ask herself whether she loved. Love,

1 Madame Bovary