Page 229 - madame-bovary

lying flat on her stomach at the top of a rick. The servant
was holding her by her skirt. Lestiboudois was raking by her
side, and every time he came near she lent forward, beating
the air with both her arms.
‘Bring her to me,’ said her mother, rushing to embrace
her. ‘How I love you, my poor child! How I love you!’
Then noticing that the tips of her ears were rather dirty,
she rang at once for warm water, and washed her, changed
her linen, her stockings, her shoes, asked a thousand ques-
tions about her health, as if on the return from a long
journey, and finally, kissing her again and crying a little,
she gave her back to the servant, who stood quite thunder-
stricken at this excess of tenderness.
That evening Rodolphe found her more serious than usu-
al.
‘That will pass over,’ he concluded; ‘it’s a whim:.’
And he missed three rendezvous running. When he did
come, she showed herself cold and almost contemptuous.
‘Ah! you’re losing your time, my lady!’
And he pretended not to notice her melancholy sighs,
nor the handkerchief she took out.
Then Emma repented. She even asked herself why she
detested Charles; if it had not been better to have been able
to love him? But he gave her no opportunities for such a
revival of sentiment, so that she was much embarrassed by
her desire for sacrifice, when the druggist came just in time
to provide her with an opportunity.

Madame Bovary