Page 75 - madame-bovary

Emma watched the turning wheels in silence. Charles,
on the extreme edge of the seat, held the reins with his two
arms wide apart, and the little horse ambled along in the
shafts that were too big for him. The loose reins hanging
over his crupper were wet with foam, and the box fastened
on behind the chaise gave great regular bumps against it.
They were on the heights of Thibourville when suddenly
some horsemen with cigars between their lips passed laugh-
ing. Emma thought she recognized the Viscount, turned
back, and caught on the horizon only the movement of the
heads rising or falling with the unequal cadence of the trot
or gallop.
A mile farther on they had to stop to mend with some
string the traces that had broken.
But Charles, giving a last look to the harness, saw some-
thing on the ground between his horse’s legs, and he picked
up a cigar-case with a green silk border and beblazoned in
the centre like the door of a carriage.
‘There are even two cigars in it,’ said he; ‘they’ll do for
this evening after dinner.’
‘Why, do you smoke?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes, when I get a chance.’
He put his find in his pocket and whipped up the nag.
When they reached home the dinner was not ready. Ma-
dame lost her temper. Nastasie answered rudely.
‘Leave the room!’ said Emma. ‘You are forgetting your-
self. I give you warning.’
For dinner there was onion soup and a piece of veal with
sorrel.

Madame Bovary