journey. Finally, with one last kiss and a little shedding of tears, she handed her over again to the servant who had been standing there quite dumbfounded by so excessive a display of affection.
That evening, Rodolphe found her more serious than usual.
It'll pass--he said to himself: It's just one of her moods.
He failed to keep three successive appointments with her. When, at last, he did come, she received him coldly, almost disdainfully.
'You're wasting your time, my pet. . . .' He pretended not to notice her melancholy sighs, nor yet the handkerchief which she took out.
It was then that Emma repented.
She even began to ask herself why she detested Charles, and whether it might not be better for her were she able to love him. But so little nourishment did these revivals of sentiment get from him, that her desire for self-sacrifice had no outlet.
And then, at just the right moment, the apothecary provided her with the opportunity for which she was looking.
HE had recently read high praise of a new method for the treatment of club-foot, and, being an enthusiast for progress, now conceived the patriotic idea of setting Yonville abreast of the times by giving it for its very own a surgical operation designed to cure this deformity.
'After all'-- he said to Emma-- what do u risk? Look at the thing sensibly'-- and he began to mark off on his fingers the many different advantages of such an experiment-almost certain sucess, relief from pain for the patient and a much improved appearence. immediate fame, for the operator. 'Why should not your husband extend a helping hand to Hippolyte over at the Golden Lion? Incidentally, the lad would talk about his marvellous recovery to every traveller using the inn, and ...'-here Homains dropped his voice and glanced cautiously about him-'...is there any reason why I shouldn't send a brief account of the incident to the papers?... a printed article is read by a lot of people...they talk...and in that way a snowball gets started. Who knows what the effect might not be!'
Why, if it came to that, shouldn't Bovary succeed? Emma had no