Page 263 - madame-bovary

‘There is still time!’ he cried. ‘Reflect! perhaps you may
repent!’
‘Never!’ she cried impetuously. And coming closer to
him: ‘What ill could come to me? There is no desert, no
precipice, no ocean I would not traverse with you. The lon-
ger we live together the more it will be like an embrace,
every day closer, more heart to heart. There will be nothing
to trouble us, no cares, no obstacle. We shall be alone, all to
ourselves eternally. Oh, speak! Answer me!’
At regular intervals he answered, ‘Yes—Yes—‘ She had
passed her hands through his hair, and she repeated in a
childlike voice, despite the big tears which were falling, ‘Ro-
dolphe! Rodolphe! Ah! Rodolphe! dear little Rodolphe!’
Midnight struck.
‘Midnight!’ said she. ‘Come, it is to-morrow. One day
more!’
He rose to go; and as if the movement he made had been
the signal for their flight, Emma said, suddenly assuming a
gay air—
‘You have the passports?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are forgetting nothing?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Certainly.’
‘It is at the Hotel de Provence, is it not, that you will wait
for me at midday?’
He nodded.
‘Till to-morrow then!’ said Emma in a last caress; and

Madame Bovary