Page 428 - madame-bovary

soning, and work it up into an article for the ‘Fanal,’ without
counting the people who were waiting to get the news from
him; and when the Yonvillers had all heard his story of the
arsenic that she had mistaken for sugar in making a vanilla
cream. Homais once more returned to Bovary’s.
He found him alone (Monsieur Canivet had left), sitting
in an arm-chair near the window, staring with an idiotic
look at the flags of the floor.
‘Now,’ said the chemist, ‘you ought yourself to fix the
hour for the ceremony.’
‘Why? What ceremony?’ Then, in a stammering, fright-
ened voice, ‘Oh, no! not that. No! I want to see her here.’
Homais, to keep himself in countenance, took up a wa-
ter-bottle on the whatnot to water the geraniums.
‘Ah! thanks,’ said Charles; ‘you are good.’
But he did not finish, choking beneath the crowd of
memories that this action of the druggist recalled to him.
Then to distract him, Homais thought fit to talk a little
horticulture: plants wanted humidity. Charles bowed his
head in sign of approbation.
‘Besides, the fine days will soon be here again.’
‘Ah!’ said Bovary.
The druggist, at his wit’s end, began softly to draw aside
the small window-curtain.
‘Hallo! there’s Monsieur Tuvache passing.’
Charles repeated like a machine—-
‘Monsieur Tuvache passing!’
Homais did not dare to speak to him again about the
funeral arrangements; it was the priest who succeeded in