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He knocked against the furniture, tore his hair, and the chemist had never believed that there could be so terrible a sight. He went home to write to Monsieur Canivet and to Doctor Lariviere. He lost his head, and made more than fifteen rough copies. Hippolyte went to Neufchatel, and Justin so spurred Bovary's horse that he left it foundered and three parts dead by the hill at Bois-Guillaume.
Hers was an idiotic sort of attachment, full of admiration for him, of voluptuousness for her, a beatitude that benumbed her; her soul sank into this drunkenness, shrivelled up, drowned in it, like Clarence in his butt of Malmsey. By the mere effect of her love Madame Bovary's manners changed.
The idea of the theatre quickly germinated in Bovary's head, for he at once communicated it to his wife, who at first refused, alleging the fatigue, the worry, the expense; but, for a wonder, Charles did not give in, so sure was he that this recreation would be good for her.
Hers was an idiotic sort of attachment, full of admiration for him, of voluptuousness for her, a beatitude that benumbed her; her soul sank into this drunkenness, shrivelled up, drowned in it, like Clarence in his butt of Malmsey. *Off-handedly. By the mere effect of her love Madame Bovary's manners changed.
There were the "Think of it; the Man of the World at Mary's Feet, by Monsieur de *, decorated with many Orders"; "The Errors of Voltaire, for the Use of the Young," etc. Madame Bovary's mind was not yet sufficiently clear to apply herself seriously to anything; moreover, she began this reading in too much hurry.
Rodolphe took his servant to Bovary's house, to bleed him. The servant was very ill, and Madame Bovary held the basin. "Madame Bovary took the basin to put it under the table. Here is Rodolphe's reflection: "He again saw Emma in her room, dressed as he had seen her, and he undressed her." It is the first day they had spoken to each other. "They looked at one another.
There were the "Think of it; the Man of the World at Mary's Feet, by Monsieur de *, décoré with many Orders;" "The Errors of Voltaire, for the Use of the Young," &c. Madame Bovary's mind was not yet sufficiently clear to apply herself seriously to anything; moreover, she began this reading in too much hurry.
Hippolyte could not get over his surprise, but bent over Bovary's hands to cover them with kisses. "Come, be calm," said the chemist; "later you will show your gratitude to your benefactor." And he went down to tell the result to five or six inquirers who were waiting in the yard, and who fancied that Hippolyte would reappear walking properly.
This is my wish; see that it is done." The two men were much surprised at Bovary's romantic ideas. The chemist at once went to him and said "This velvet seems to me a superfetation. Besides, the expense " "What's that to you?" cried Charles. "Leave me! You did not love her. Go!" The priest took him by the arm for a turn in the garden. He discoursed on the vanity of earthly things.
The idea of the theatre quickly germinated in Bovary's head, for he at once communicated it to his wife, who at first refused, alleging the fatigue, the worry, the expense; but, for a wonder, Charles did not give in, so sure was he that this recreation would be good for her.
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