Page 77 - madame-bovary
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satin shoes whose soles were yellowed with the slippery wax
of the dancing floor. Her heart was like these. In its friction
against wealth something had come over it that could not
be effaced.
The memory of this ball, then, became an occupation for
Emma.
Whenever the Wednesday came round she said to herself
as she awoke, ‘Ah! I was there a week—a fortnight—three
weeks ago.’
And little by little the faces grew confused in her remem-
brance.
She forgot the tune of the quadrilles; she no longer saw
the liveries and appointments so distinctly; some details es-
caped her, but the regret remained with her.
Madame Bovary
