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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Yes, faith, for they might carry off mine from my desk." "'Tis the same way with me. I am an employé." Then they gazed at each other. Bouvard's agreeable visage quite charmed Pécuchet. His blue eyes, always half-closed, smiled in his fresh-coloured face.
This was the reason, in Bouvard's opinion, that there were so many frauds at presidential elections. "None," replied Bouvard; "I believe rather in the gullibility of the people. Think of all who buy the patent health-restorer, the Dupuytren pomatum, the Châtelaine's water, etc. Those boobies constitute the majority of the electorate, and we submit to their will.
Bouvard's room, the floor of which was well waxed, and which had curtains of cotton cambric and mahogany furniture, had the advantage of a balcony overlooking the river. The two principal ornaments were a liqueur-frame in the middle of the chest of drawers, and, in a row beside the glass, daguerreotypes representing his friends. An oil painting occupied the alcove. "My uncle!" said Bouvard.
He made her a present of a pair of lady's boots, and often treated her to a glass of aniseed cordial. To save her trouble he rose early, chopped up the wood, lighted the fire, and was so attentive as to clean Bouvard's shoes. Mélie did not faint or let her handkerchief fall, and Pécuchet did not know what to do, his passion increasing through the fear of satisfying it.
Human testimonies! and consequently open to suspicion." Pécuchet reflected folded his arms. "But we are about to fall into the frightful abyss of scepticism." In Bouvard's opinion it frightened only weak brains. "Thank you for the compliment," returned Pécuchet. "However, there are indisputable facts. We can arrive at truth within a certain limit." "Which? Do two and two always make four?
Barberou set to work with zeal, believing it was Bouvard's own case, and calling him an old dotard, even though he congratulated him about it. "At my age!" said Pécuchet. "Is it not a melancholy thing? But why did she do this?" "You pleased her." "She ought to have given me warning." "Does passion reason?" And Bouvard renewed his complaints about Madame Bordin.
Formerly they had been almost happy, but their occupation humiliated them since they had begun to set a higher value on themselves, and their disgust increased while they were mutually glorifying and spoiling each other. Pécuchet contracted Bouvard's bluntness, and Bouvard assumed a little of Pécuchet's moroseness. "I have a mind to become a mountebank in the streets!" said one to the other.
He had just had a visit from Foureau, who was exasperated about his hemorrhoids. Vainly had he contended that they were a safeguard against every disease. Foureau, who would listen to nothing, had threatened him with an action for damages. He lost his head over it. Pécuchet told him the other story, which he considered more serious, and was a little shocked at Bouvard's indifference.
It excited Bouvard's imagination so much that they sought immediately in their books for a nomenclature for purchasable plants, and, having selected names which appeared to them wonderful, they applied to a nurseryman from Falaise, who busied himself in supplying them with three hundred stalks for which he had not found a sale.
But, as he did not wish to live at Bouvard's expense, he would not go before he got his retiring pension. Two years more; no matter! He remained inflexible, and the thing was decided. In order to know where to settle down, they passed in review all the provinces.
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