Page 397 - madame-bovary

‘Sir, I am waiting.’
‘For what?’ said the notary, who suddenly became very
pale.
‘This money.’
‘But—‘ Then, yielding to the outburst of too powerful a
desire, ‘Well, yes!’
He dragged himself towards her on his knees, regardless
of his dressing-gown.
‘For pity’s sake, stay. I love you!’
He seized her by her waist. Madame Bovary’s face flushed
purple. She recoiled with a terrible look, crying—
‘You are taking a shameless advantage of my distress, sir!
I am to be pitied—not to be sold.’
And she went out.
The notary remained quite stupefied, his eyes fixed on
his fine embroidered slippers. They were a love gift, and the
sight of them at last consoled him. Besides, he reflected that
such an adventure might have carried him too far.
‘What a wretch! what a scoundrel! what an infamy!’ she
said to herself, as she fled with nervous steps beneath the as-
pens of the path. The disappointment of her failure increased
the indignation of her outraged modesty; it seemed to her
that Providence pursued her implacably, and, strengthen-
ing herself in her pride, she had never felt so much esteem
for herself nor so much contempt for others. A spirit of war-
fare transformed her. She would have liked to strike all men,
to spit in their faces, to crush them, and she walked rapidly
straight on, pale, quivering, maddened, searching the emp-
ty horizon with tear-dimmed eyes, and as it were rejoicing

Madame Bovary