“Andsincewhen？“
　　“Turnthemout!turnthemout!“Peoplewerelookingatthem。Theyweresilent。
　　Butfromthatmomentshelistenednomore；andthechorusoftheguests，thescenebetweenAshtonandhisservant，thegrandduetinDmajor，allwereforherasfaroffasiftheinstrumentshadgrownlesssonorousandthecharactersmoreremote。Sherememberedthegamesatcardsatthedruggist’s，andthewalktothenurse’s，thereadinginthearbour，thetete-a-tetebythefireside——allthatpoorlove，socalmandsoprotracted，sodiscreet，sotender，andthatshehadneverthelessforgotten。Andwhyhadhecomeback？Whatcombinationofcircumstanceshadbroughthimbackintoherlife？Hewasstandingbehindher，leaningwithhisshoulderagainstthewallofthebox；nowandagainshefeltherselfshudderingbeneaththehotbreathfromhisnostrilsfallinguponherhair。
　　“Doesthisamuseyou？“saidhe，bendingoverhersocloselythattheendofhismoustachebrushedhercheek。Sherepliedcarelessly——
　　“Oh，dearme，no，notmuch。“
　　Thenheproposedthattheyshouldleavethetheatreandgoandtakeanicesomewhere。
　　“Oh，notyet；letusstay，“saidBovary。“Herhair’sundone；thisisgoingtobetragic。“
　　ButthemadscenedidnotatallinterestEmma，andtheactingofthesingerseemedtoherexaggerated。
　　“Shescreamstooloud，“saidshe，turningtoCharles，whowaslistening。
　　“Yes——alittle，“hereplied，undecidedbetweenthefranknessofhispleasureandhisrespectforhiswife’sopinion。
　　ThenwithasighLeonsaid——
　　“Theheatis——“
　　“Unbearable!Yes!“
　　“Doyoufeelunwell？“askedBovary。
　　“Yes，Iamstifling；letusgo。“
　　MonsieurLeonputherlonglaceshawlcarefullyabouthershoulders，andallthreewentofftositdownintheharbour，intheopenair，outsidethewindowsofacafe。
　　Firsttheyspokeofherillness，althoughEmmainterruptedCharlesfromtimetotime，forfear，shesaid，ofboringMonsieurLeon；andthelattertoldthemthathehadcometospendtwoyearsatRoueninalargeoffice，inordertogetpracticeinhisprofession，whichwasdifferentinNormandyandParis。ThenheinquiredafterBerthe，theHomais，MereLefrancois，andastheyhad，inthehusband’spresence，nothingmoretosaytooneanother，theconversationsooncametoanend。
　　Peoplecomingoutofthetheatrepassedalongthepavement，hummingorshoutingatthetopoftheirvoices，“Obelange，maLucie!*“ThenLeon，playingthedilettante，begantotalkmusic。
　　HehadseenTambourini，Rubini，Persiani，Grisi，and，comparedwiththem，Lagardy，despitehisgrandoutbursts，wasnowhere。
　　*Ohbeautifulangel，myLucie。
　　“Yet，“interruptedCharles，whowasslowlysippinghisrum-sherbet，“theysaythatheisquiteadmirableinthelastact。Iregretleavingbeforetheend，becauseitwasbeginningtoamuseme。“
　　“Why，“saidtheclerk，“hewillsoongiveanotherperformance。“
　　ButCharlesrepliedthattheyweregoingbacknextday。“Unless，“
　　headded，turningtohiswife，“youwouldliketostayalone，kitten？“
　　Andchanginghistacticsatthisunexpectedopportunitythatpresenteditselftohishopes，theyoungmansangthepraisesofLagardyinthelastnumber。Itwasreallysuperb，sublime。ThenCharlesinsisted——
　　“YouwouldgetbackonSunday。Come，makeupyourmind。Youarewrongifyoufeelthatthisisdoingyoutheleastgood。“
　　Thetablesroundthem，however，wereemptying；awaitercameandstooddiscreetlynearthem。Charles，whounderstood，tookouthispurse；theclerkheldbackhisarm，anddidnotforgettoleavetwomorepiecesofsilverthathemadechinkonthemarble。
　　“Iamreallysorry，“saidBovary，“aboutthemoneywhichyouare——“
　　Theothermadeacarelessgesturefullofcordiality，andtakinghishatsaid——
　　“Itissettled，isn’tit？To-morrowatsixo’clock？“
　　Charlesexplainedoncemorethathecouldnotabsenthimselflonger，butthatnothingpreventedEmma——
　　“But，“shestammered，withastrangesmile，“Iamnotsure——“
　　“Well，youmustthinkitover。We’llsee。Nightbringscounsel。“
　　ThentoLeon，whowaswalkingalongwiththem，“Nowthatyouareinourpartoftheworld，Ihopeyou’llcomeandaskusforsomedinnernowandthen。“
　　Theclerkdeclaredhewouldnotfailtodoso，beingobliged，moreover，togotoYonvilleonsomebusinessforhisoffice。AndtheypartedbeforetheSaint-HerblandPassagejustastheclockinthecathedralstruckhalf-pasteleven。
　　PartIII
　　ChapterOneMonsieurLeon，whilestudyinglaw，hadgoneprettyoftentothedancing-rooms，wherehewasevenagreatsuccessamongstthegrisettes，whothoughthehadadistinguishedair。Hewasthebest-manneredofthestudents；heworehishairneithertoolongnortooshort，didn’tspendallhisquarter’smoneyonthefirstdayofthemonth，andkeptongoodtermswithhisprofessors。Asforexcesses，hehadalwaysabstainedfromthem，asmuchfromcowardiceasfromrefinement。
　　Oftenwhenhestayedinhisroomtoread，orelsewhensittingofaneveningunderthelime-treesoftheLuxembourg，helethisCodefalltotheground，andthememoryofEmmacamebacktohim。
　　Butgraduallythisfeelinggrewweaker，andotherdesiresgatheredoverit，althoughitstillpersistedthroughthemall。
　　ForLeondidnotloseallhope；therewasforhim，asitwere，avaguepromisefloatinginthefuture，likeagoldenfruitsuspendedfromsomefantastictree。
　　Then，seeingheragainafterthreeyearsofabsencehispassionreawakened。Hemust，hethought，atlastmakeuphismindtopossessher。Moreover，histimidityhadwornoffbycontactwithhisgaycompanions，andhereturnedtotheprovincesdespisingeveryonewhohadnotwithvarnishedshoestroddentheasphaltoftheboulevards。BythesideofaParisienneinherlaces，inthedrawing-roomofsomeillustriousphysician，apersondrivinghiscarriageandwearingmanyorders，thepoorclerkwouldnodoubthavetrembledlikeachild；buthere，atRouen，ontheharbour，withthewifeofthissmalldoctorhefeltathisease，surebeforehandhewouldshine。Self-possessiondependsonitsenvironment。Wedon’tspeakonthefirstfloorasonthefourth；
　　andthewealthywomanseemstohave，abouther，toguardhervirtue，allherbanknotes，likeacuirassintheliningofhercorset。
　　OnleavingtheBovarysthenightbefore，Leonhadfollowedthemthroughthestreetsatadistance；thenhavingseenthemstopatthe“Croix-Rouge，“heturnedonhisheel，andspentthenightmeditatingaplan。
　　Sothenextdayaboutfiveo’clockhewalkedintothekitchenoftheinn，withachokingsensationinhisthroat，palecheeks，andthatresolutionofcowardsthatstopsatnothing。
　　“Thegentlemanisn’tin，“answeredaservant。
　　Thisseemedtohimagoodomen。Hewentupstairs。
　　Shewasnotdisturbedathisapproach；onthecontrary，sheapologisedforhavingneglectedtotellhimwheretheywerestaying。
　　“Oh，Idivinedit!“saidLeon。
　　Hepretendedhehadbeenguidedtowardsherbychance，by，instinct。Shebegantosmile；andatonce，torepairhisfolly，Leontoldherthathehadspenthismorninginlookingforherinallthehotelsinthetownoneaftertheother。
　　“Soyouhavemadeupyourmindtostay？“headded。
　　“Yes，“shesaid，“andIamwrong。Oneoughtnottoaccustomoneselftoimpossiblepleasureswhenthereareathousanddemandsuponone。“
　　“Oh，Icanimagine!“
　　“Ah!no；foryou，youareaman!“
　　Butmentoohadhadtheirtrials，andtheconversationwentoffintocertainphilosophicalreflections。Emmaexpatiatedmuchonthemiseryofearthlyaffections，andtheeternalisolationinwhichtheheartremainsentombed。
　　Toshowoff，orfromanaiveimitationofthismelancholywhichcalledforthhis，theyoungmandeclaredthathehadbeenawfullyboredduringthewholecourseofhisstudies。Thelawirritatedhim，othervocationsattractedhim，andhismotherneverceasedworryinghimineveryoneofherletters。Astheytalkedtheyexplainedmoreandmorefullythemotivesoftheirsadness，workingthemselvesupintheirprogressiveconfidence。Buttheysometimesstoppedshortofthecompleteexpositionoftheirthought，andthensoughttoinventaphrasethatmightexpressitallthesame。Shedidnotconfessherpassionforanother；hedidnotsaythathehadforgottenher。
　　Perhapshenolongerrememberedhissupperswithgirlsaftermaskedballs；andnodoubtshedidnotrecollecttherendezvousofoldwhensheranacrossthefieldsinthemorningtoherlover’shouse。Thenoisesofthetownhardlyreachedthem，andtheroomseemedsmall，asifonpurposetohemintheirsolitudemoreclosely。Emma，inadimitydressing-gown，leantherheadagainstthebackoftheoldarm-chair；theyellowwall-paperformed，asitwere，agoldenbackgroundbehindher，andherbareheadwasmirroredintheglasswiththewhitepartinginthemiddle，andthetipofherearspeepingoutfromthefoldsofherhair。