“With pleasure!” Monsieur Homais replied; “besides, I must invigorate my mind, for I am getting rusty1 here. We’ll go to the theatre, to the restaurant; we’ll make a night of it.”
“Oh, my dear!” tenderly murmured Madame Homais, alarmed at the vague perils2 he was preparing to brave.
“Well, what? Do you think I’m not sufficiently3 ruining my health living here amid the continual emanations of the pharmacy4? But there! that is the way with women! They are jealous of science, and then are opposed to our taking the most legitimate5 distractions6. No matter! Count upon me. One of these days I shall turn up at Rouen, and we’ll go the pace together.”
The druggist would formerly7 have taken good care not to use such an expression, but he was cultivating a gay Parisian style, which he thought in the best taste; and, like his neighbour, Madame Bovary, he questioned the clerk curiously8 about the customs of the capital; he even talked slang to dazzle the bourgeois9, saying bender, crummy, dandy, macaroni, the cheese, cut my stick and “I’ll hook it,” for “I am going.”
So one Thursday Emma was surprised to meet Monsieur Homais in the kitchen of the “Lion d’Or,” wearing a traveller’s costume, that is to say, wrapped in an old cloak which no one knew he had, while he carried a valise in one hand and the foot-warmer of his establishment in the other. He had confided10 his intentions to no one, for fear of causing the public anxiety by his absence.
The idea of seeing again the place where his youth had been spent no doubt excited him, for during the whole journey he never ceased talking, and as soon as he had arrived, he jumped quickly out of the diligence to go in search of Leon. In vain the clerk tried to get rid of him. Monsieur Homais dragged him off to the large Cafe de la Normandie, which he entered majestically11, not raising his hat, thinking it very provincial12 to uncover in any public place.
Emma waited for Leon three quarters of an hour. At last she ran to his office; and, lost in all sorts of conjectures13, accusing him of indifference14, and reproaching herself for her weakness, she spent the afternoon, her face pressed against the window-panes.
At two o’clock they were still at a table opposite each other. The large room was emptying; the stove-pipe, in the shape of a palm-tree, spread its gilt15 leaves over the white ceiling, and near them, outside the window, in the bright sunshine, a little fountain gurgled in a white basin, where; in the midst of watercress and asparagus, three torpid16 lobsters17 stretched across to some quails18 that lay heaped up in a pile on their sides.
Homais was enjoying himself. Although he was even more intoxicated19 with the luxury than the rich fare, the Pommard wine all the same rather excited his faculties20; and when the omelette au rhum20 appeared, he began propounding21 immoral22 theories about women. What seduced23 him above all else was chic25. He admired an elegant toilette in a well-furnished apartment, and as to bodily qualities, he didn’t dislike a young girl.
Leon watched the clock in despair. The druggist went on drinking, eating, and talking.
“You must be very lonely,” he said suddenly, “here at Rouen. To be sure your lady-love doesn’t live far away.”
And the other blushed —
“Come now, be frank. Can you deny that at Yonville —”
The young man stammered26 something.
“At Madame Bovary’s, you’re not making love to —”
“To whom?”
“The servant!”
He was not joking; but vanity getting the better of all prudence27, Leon, in spite of himself protested. Besides, he only liked dark women.
“I approve of that,” said the chemist; “they have more passion.”
And whispering into his friend’s ear, he pointed28 out the symptoms by which one could find out if a woman had passion. He even launched into an ethnographic digression: the German was vapourish, the French woman licentious29, the Italian passionate30.
“And negresses?” asked the clerk.
“They are an artistic31 taste!” said Homais. “Waiter! two cups of coffee!”
“Are we going?” at last asked Leon impatiently.
“Ja!”
But before leaving he wanted to see the proprietor32 of the establishment and made him a few compliments. Then the young man, to be alone, alleged33 he had some business engagement.
“Ah! I will escort you,” said Homais.
And all the while he was walking through the streets with him he talked of his wife, his children; of their future, and of his business; told him in what a decayed condition it had formerly been, and to what a degree of perfection he had raised it.
Arrived in front of the Hotel de Boulogne, Leon left him abruptly34, ran up the stairs, and found his mistress in great excitement. At mention of the chemist she flew into a passion. He, however, piled up good reasons; it wasn’t his fault; didn’t she know Homais — did she believe that he would prefer his company? But she turned away; he drew her back, and, sinking on his knees, clasped her waist with his arms in a languorous35 pose, full of concupiscence and supplication36.
She was standing37; up, her large flashing eyes looked at him seriously, almost terribly. Then tears obscured them, her red eyelids38 were lowered, she gave him her hands, and Leon was pressing them to his lips when a servant appeared to tell the gentleman that he was wanted.
“You will come back?” she said.
“Yes.”
“But when?”
“Immediately.”
“It’s a trick,” said the chemist, when he saw Leon. “I wanted to interrupt this visit, that seemed to me to annoy you. Let’s go and have a glass of garus at Bridoux’.”
Leon vowed39 that he must get back to his office. Then the druggist joked him about quill40-drivers and the law.
“Leave Cujas and Barthole alone a bit. Who the devil prevents you? Be a man! Let’s go to Bridoux’. You’ll see his dog. It’s very interesting.”
And as the clerk still insisted —
“I’ll go with you. I’ll read a paper while I wait for you, or turn over the leaves of a ‘Code.’”
Leon, bewildered by Emma’s anger, Monsieur Homais’ chatter41, and, perhaps, by the heaviness of the luncheon42, was undecided, and, as it were, fascinated by the chemist, who kept repeating —
“Let’s go to Bridoux’. It’s just by here, in the Rue43 Malpalu.”
Then, through cowardice44, through stupidity, through that indefinable feeling that drags us into the most distasteful acts, he allowed himself to be led off to Bridoux’, whom they found in his small yard, superintending three workmen, who panted as they turned the large wheel of a machine for making seltzer-water. Homais gave them some good advice. He embraced Bridoux; they took some garus. Twenty times Leon tried to escape, but the other seized him by the arm saying —
“Presently! I’m coming! We’ll go to the ‘Fanal de Rouen’ to see the fellows there. I’ll introduce you to Thornassin.”
At last he managed to get rid of him, and rushed straight to the hotel. Emma was no longer there. She had just gone in a fit of anger. She detested45 him now. This failing to keep their rendezvous46 seemed to her an insult, and she tried to rake up other reasons to separate herself from him. He was incapable47 of heroism48, weak, banal49, more spiritless than a woman, avaricious50 too, and cowardly.
Then, growing calmer, she at length discovered that she had, no doubt, calumniated51 him. But the disparaging52 of those we love always alienates53 us from them to some extent. We must not touch our idols54; the gilt sticks to our fingers.
They gradually came to talking more frequently of matters outside their love, and in the letters that Emma wrote him she spoke55 of flowers, verses, the moon and the stars, naive56 resources of a waning57 passion striving to keep itself alive by all external aids. She was constantly promising58 herself a profound felicity on her next journey. Then she confessed to herself that she felt nothing extraordinary. This disappointment quickly gave way to a new hope, and Emma returned to him more inflamed59, more eager than ever. She undressed brutally60, tearing off the thin laces of her corset that nestled around her hips61 like a gliding62 snake. She went on tiptoe, barefooted, to see once more that the door was closed, then, pale, serious, and, without speaking, with one movement, she threw herself upon his breast with a long shudder63.
Yet there was upon that brow covered with cold drops, on those quivering lips, in those wild eyes, in the strain of those arms, something vague and dreary64 that seemed to Leon to glide65 between them subtly as if to separate them.
He did not dare to question her; but, seeing her so skilled, she must have passed, he thought, through every experience of suffering and of pleasure. What had once charmed now frightened him a little. Besides, he rebelled against his absorption, daily more marked, by her personality. He begrudged66 Emma this constant victory. He even strove not to love her; then, when he heard the creaking of her boots, he turned coward, like drunkards at the sight of strong drinks.
She did not fail, in truth, to lavish67 all sorts of attentions upon him, from the delicacies68 of food to the coquettries of dress and languishing69 looks. She brought roses to her breast from Yonville, which she threw into his face; was anxious about his health, gave him advice as to his conduct; and, in order the more surely to keep her hold on him, hoping perhaps that heaven would take her part, she tied a medal of the Virgin70 round his neck. She inquired like a virtuous71 mother about his companions. She said to him —
“Don’t see them; don’t go out; think only of ourselves; love me!”
She would have liked to be able to watch over his life; and the idea occurred to her of having him followed in the streets. Near the hotel there was always a kind of loafer who accosted72 travellers, and who would not refuse. But her pride revolted at this.
“Bah! so much the worse. Let him deceive me! What does it matter to me? As If I cared for him!”
One day, when they had parted early and she was returning alone along the boulevard, she saw the walls of her convent; then she sat down on a form in the shade of the elm-trees. How calm that time had been! How she longed for the ineffable73 sentiments of love that she had tried to figure to herself out of books! The first month of her marriage, her rides in the wood, the viscount that waltzed, and Lagardy singing, all repassed before her eyes. And Leon suddenly appeared to her as far off as the others.
“Yet I love him,” she said to herself.
No matter! She was not happy — she never had been. Whence came this insufficiency in life — this instantaneous turning to decay of everything on which she leant? But if there were somewhere a being strong and beautiful, a valiant74 nature, full at once of exaltation and refinement75, a poet’s heart in an angel’s form, a lyre with sounding chords ringing out elegiac epithalamia to heaven, why, perchance, should she not find him? Ah! how impossible! Besides, nothing was worth the trouble of seeking it; everything was a lie. Every smile hid a yawn of boredom76, every joy a curse, all pleasure satiety77, and the sweetest kisses left upon your lips only the unattainable desire for a greater delight.
A metallic78 clang droned through the air, and four strokes were heard from the convent-clock. Four o’clock! And it seemed to her that she had been there on that form an eternity79. But an infinity80 of passions may be contained in a minute, like a crowd in a small space.
Emma lived all absorbed in hers, and troubled no more about money matters than an archduchess.
Once, however, a wretched-looking man, rubicund82 and bald, came to her house, saying he had been sent by Monsieur Vincart of Rouen. He took out the pins that held together the side-pockets of his long green overcoat, stuck them into his sleeve, and politely handed her a paper.
It was a bill for seven hundred francs, signed by her, and which Lheureux, in spite of all his professions, had paid away to Vincart. She sent her servant for him. He could not come. Then the stranger, who had remained standing, casting right and left curious glances, that his thick, fair eyebrows83 hid, asked with a naive air —
“What answer am I to take Monsieur Vincart?”
“Oh,” said Emma, “tell him that I haven’t it. I will send next week; he must wait; yes, till next week.”
And the fellow went without another word.
But the next day at twelve o’clock she received a summons, and the sight of the stamped paper, on which appeared several times in large letters, “Maitre Hareng, bailiff at Buchy,” so frightened her that she rushed in hot haste to the linendraper’s. She found him in his shop, doing up a parcel.
“Your obedient!” he said; “I am at your service.”
But Lheureux, all the same, went on with his work, helped by a young girl of about thirteen, somewhat hunch-backed, who was at once his clerk and his servant.
Then, his clogs84 clattering85 on the shop-boards, he went up in front of Madame Bovary to the first door, and introduced her into a narrow closet, where, in a large bureau in sapon-wood, lay some ledgers86, protected by a horizontal padlocked iron bar. Against the wall, under some remnants of calico, one glimpsed a safe, but of such dimensions that it must contain something besides bills and money. Monsieur Lheureux, in fact, went in for pawnbroking87, and it was there that he had put Madame Bovary’s gold chain, together with the earrings89 of poor old Tellier, who, at last forced to sell out, had bought a meagre store of grocery at Quincampoix, where he was dying of catarrh amongst his candles, that were less yellow than his face.
Lheureux sat down in a large cane90 arm-chair, saying: “What news?”
“See!”
And she showed him the paper.
“Well how can I help it?”
Then she grew angry, reminding him of the promise he had given not to pay away her bills. He acknowledged it.
“But I was pressed myself; the knife was at my own throat.”
“And what will happen now?” she went on.
“Oh, it’s very simple; a judgment91 and then a distraint — that’s about it!”
Emma kept down a desire to strike him, and asked gently if there was no way of quieting Monsieur Vincart.
“I dare say! Quiet Vincart! You don’t know him; he’s more ferocious92 than an Arab!”
Still Monsieur Lheureux must interfere93.
“Well, listen. It seems to me so far I’ve been very good to you.” And opening one of his ledgers, “See,” he said. Then running up the page with his finger, “Let’s see! let’s see! August 3d, two hundred francs; June 17th, a hundred and fifty; March 23d, forty-six. In April —”
He stopped, as if afraid of making some mistake.
“Not to speak of the bills signed by Monsieur Bovary, one for seven hundred francs, and another for three hundred. As to your little installments94, with the interest, why, there’s no end to ’em; one gets quite muddled95 over ’em. I’ll have nothing more to do with it.”
She wept; she even called him “her good Monsieur Lheureux.” But he always fell back upon “that rascal96 Vincart.” Besides, he hadn’t a brass97 farthing; no one was paying him now-a-days; they were eating his coat off his back; a poor shopkeeper like him couldn’t advance money.
Emma was silent, and Monsieur Lheureux, who was biting the feathers of a quill, no doubt became uneasy at her silence, for he went on —
“Unless one of these days I have something coming in, I might —”
“Besides,” said she, “as soon as the balance of Barneville —”
“What!”
And on hearing that Langlois had not yet paid he seemed much surprised. Then in a honied voice —
“And we agree, you say?”
“Oh! to anything you like.”
On this he closed his eyes to reflect, wrote down a few figures, and declaring it would be very difficult for him, that the affair was shady, and that he was being bled, he wrote out four bills for two hundred and fifty francs each, to fall due month by month.
“Provided that Vincart will listen to me! However, it’s settled. I don’t play the fool; I’m straight enough.”
Next he carelessly showed her several new goods, not one of which, however, was in his opinion worthy98 of madame.
“When I think that there’s a dress at threepence-halfpenny a yard, and warranted fast colours! And yet they actually swallow it! Of course you understand one doesn’t tell them what it really is!” He hoped by this confession99 of dishonesty to others to quite convince her of his probity100 to her.
Then he called her back to show her three yards of guipure that he had lately picked up “at a sale.”
“Isn’t it lovely?” said Lheureux. “It is very much used now for the backs of arm-chairs. It’s quite the rage.”
And, more ready than a juggler101, he wrapped up the guipure in some blue paper and put it in Emma’s hands.
“But at least let me know —”
“Yes, another time,” he replied, turning on his heel.
That same evening she urged Bovary to write to his mother, to ask her to send as quickly as possible the whole of the balance due from the father’s estate. The mother-in-law replied that she had nothing more, the winding103 up was over, and there was due to them besides Barneville an income of six hundred francs, that she would pay them punctually.
Then Madame Bovary sent in accounts to two or three patients, and she made large use of this method, which was very successful. She was always careful to add a postscript104: “Do not mention this to my husband; you know how proud he is. Excuse me. Yours obediently.” There were some complaints; she intercepted105 them.
To get money she began selling her old gloves, her old hats, the old odds106 and ends, and she bargained rapaciously107, her peasant blood standing her in good stead. Then on her journey to town she picked up nick-nacks secondhand, that, in default of anyone else, Monsieur Lheureux would certainly take off her hands. She bought ostrich108 feathers, Chinese porcelain109, and trunks; she borrowed from Felicite, from Madame Lefrancois, from the landlady110 at the Croix-Rouge, from everybody, no matter where.
With the money she at last received from Barneville she paid two bills; the other fifteen hundred francs fell due. She renewed the bills, and thus it was continually.
Sometimes, it is true, she tried to make a calculation, but she discovered things so exorbitant111 that she could not believe them possible. Then she recommenced, soon got confused, gave it all up, and thought no more about it.
The house was very dreary now. Tradesmen were seen leaving it with angry faces. Handkerchiefs were lying about on the stoves, and little Berthe, to the great scandal of Madame Homais, wore stockings with holes in them. If Charles timidly ventured a remark, she answered roughly that it wasn’t her fault.
What was the meaning of all these fits of temper? She explained everything through her old nervous illness, and reproaching himself with having taken her infirmities for faults, accused himself of egotism, and longed to go and take her in his arms.
“Ah, no!” he said to himself; “I should worry her.”
And he did not stir.
After dinner he walked about alone in the garden; he took little Berthe on his knees, and unfolding his medical journal, tried to teach her to read. But the child, who never had any lessons, soon looked up with large, sad eyes and began to cry. Then he comforted her; went to fetch water in her can to make rivers on the sand path, or broke off branches from the privet hedges to plant trees in the beds. This did not spoil the garden much, all choked now with long weeds. They owed Lestiboudois for so many days. Then the child grew cold and asked for her mother.
“Call the servant,” said Charles. “You know, dearie, that mamma does not like to be disturbed.”
Autumn was setting in, and the leaves were already falling, as they did two years ago when she was ill. Where would it all end? And he walked up and down, his hands behind his back.
Madame was in her room, which no one entered. She stayed there all day long, torpid, half dressed, and from time to time burning Turkish pastilles which she had bought at Rouen in an Algerian’s shop. In order not to have at night this sleeping man stretched at her side, by dint112 of manoeuvring, she at last succeeded in banishing113 him to the second floor, while she read till morning extravagant114 books, full of pictures of orgies and thrilling situations. Often, seized with fear, she cried out, and Charles hurried to her.
“Oh, go away!” she would say.
Or at other times, consumed more ardently115 than ever by that inner flame to which adultery added fuel, panting, tremulous, all desire, she threw open her window, breathed in the cold air, shook loose in the wind her masses of hair, too heavy, and, gazing upon the stars, longed for some princely love. She thought of him, of Leon. She would then have given anything for a single one of those meetings that surfeited117 her.
These were her gala days. She wanted them to be sumptuous118, and when he alone could not pay the expenses, she made up the deficit119 liberally, which happened pretty well every time. He tried to make her understand that they would be quite as comfortable somewhere else, in a smaller hotel, but she always found some objection.
One day she drew six small silver-gilt spoons from her bag (they were old Roualt’s wedding present), begging him to pawn88 them at once for her, and Leon obeyed, though the proceeding120 annoyed him. He was afraid of compromising himself.
Then, on, reflection, he began to think his mistress’s ways were growing odd, and that they were perhaps not wrong in wishing to separate him from her.
In fact someone had sent his mother a long anonymous121 letter to warn her that he was “ruining himself with a married woman,” and the good lady at once conjuring122 up the eternal bugbear of families the vague pernicious creature, the siren, the monster, who dwells fantastically in depths of love, wrote to Lawyer Dubocage, his employer, who behaved perfectly123 in the affair. He kept him for three quarters of an hour trying to open his eyes, to warn him of the abyss into which he was falling. Such an intrigue124 would damage him later on, when he set up for himself. He implored126 him to break with her, and, if he would not make this sacrifice in his own interest, to do it at least for his, Dubocage’s sake.
At last Leon swore he would not see Emma again, and he reproached himself with not having kept his word, considering all the worry and lectures this woman might still draw down upon him, without reckoning the jokes made by his companions as they sat round the stove in the morning. Besides, he was soon to be head clerk; it was time to settle down. So he gave up his flute127, exalted128 sentiments, and poetry; for every bourgeois in the flush of his youth, were it but for a day, a moment, has believed himself capable of immense passions, of lofty enterprises. The most mediocre129 libertine130 has dreamed of sultanas; every notary131 bears within him the debris132 of a poet.
He was bored now when Emma suddenly began to sob133 on his breast, and his heart, like the people who can only stand a certain amount of music, dozed134 to the sound of a love whose delicacies he no longer noted135.
They knew one another too well for any of those surprises of possession that increase its joys a hundred-fold. She was as sick of him as he was weary of her. Emma found again in adultery all the platitudes136 of marriage.
But how to get rid of him? Then, though she might feel humiliated137 at the baseness of such enjoyment138, she clung to it from habit or from corruption139, and each day she hungered after them the more, exhausting all felicity in wishing for too much of it. She accused Leon of her baffled hopes, as if he had betrayed her; and she even longed for some catastrophe140 that would bring about their separation, since she had not the courage to make up her mind to it herself.
She none the less went on writing him love letters, in virtue141 of the notion that a woman must write to her lover.
But whilst she wrote it was another man she saw, a phantom142 fashioned out of her most ardent116 memories, of her finest reading, her strongest lusts143, and at last he became so real, so tangible144, that she palpitated wondering, without, however, the power to imagine him clearly, so lost was he, like a god, beneath the abundance of his attributes. He dwelt in that azure145 land where silk ladders hang from balconies under the breath of flowers, in the light of the moon. She felt him near her; he was coming, and would carry her right away in a kiss.
Then she fell back exhausted146, for these transports of vague love wearied her more than great debauchery.
She now felt constant ache all over her. Often she even received summonses, stamped paper that she barely looked at. She would have liked not to be alive, or to be always asleep.
On Mid-Lent she did not return to Yonville, but in the evening went to a masked ball. She wore velvet147 breeches, red stockings, a club wig148, and three-cornered hat cocked on one side. She danced all night to the wild tones of the trombones; people gathered round her, and in the morning she found herself on the steps of the theatre together with five or six masks, debardeuses21 and sailors, Leon’s comrades, who were talking about having supper.
The neighbouring cafes were full. They caught sight of one on the harbour, a very indifferent restaurant, whose proprietor showed them to a little room on the fourth floor.
The men were whispering in a corner, no doubt consorting149 about expenses. There were a clerk, two medical students, and a shopman — what company for her! As to the women, Emma soon perceived from the tone of their voices that they must almost belong to the lowest class. Then she was frightened, pushed back her chair, and cast down her eyes.
The others began to eat; she ate nothing. Her head was on fire, her eyes smarted, and her skin was ice-cold. In her head she seemed to feel the floor of the ball-room rebounding150 again beneath the rhythmical151 pulsation152 of the thousands of dancing feet. And now the smell of the punch, the smoke of the cigars, made her giddy. She fainted, and they carried her to the window.
Day was breaking, and a great stain of purple colour broadened out in the pale horizon over the St. Catherine hills. The livid river was shivering in the wind; there was no one on the bridges; the street lamps were going out.
She revived, and began thinking of Berthe asleep yonder in the servant’s room. Then a cart filled with long strips of iron passed by, and made a deafening153 metallic vibration154 against the walls of the houses.
She slipped away suddenly, threw off her costume, told Leon she must get back, and at last was alone at the Hotel de Boulogne. Everything, even herself, was now unbearable155 to her. She wished that, taking wing like a bird, she could fly somewhere, far away to regions of purity, and there grow young again.
She went out, crossed the Boulevard, the Place Cauchoise, and the Faubourg, as far as an open street that overlooked some gardens. She walked rapidly; the fresh air calming her; and, little by little, the faces of the crowd, the masks, the quadrilles, the lights, the supper, those women, all disappeared like mists fading away. Then, reaching the “Croix-Rouge,” she threw herself on the bed in her little room on the second floor, where there were pictures of the “Tour de Nesle.” At four o’clock Hivert awoke her.
When she got home, Felicite showed her behind the clock a grey paper. She read —
“In virtue of the seizure156 in execution of a judgment.”
What judgment? As a matter of fact, the evening before another paper had been brought that she had not yet seen, and she was stunned157 by these words —
“By order of the king, law, and justice, to Madame Bovary.” Then, skipping several lines, she read, “Within twenty-four hours, without fail —” But what? “To pay the sum of eight thousand francs.” And there was even at the bottom, “She will be constrained158 thereto by every form of law, and notably159 by a writ102 of distraint on her furniture and effects.”
What was to be done? In twenty-four hours — tomorrow. Lheureux, she thought, wanted to frighten her again; for she saw through all his devices, the object of his kindnesses. What reassured160 her was the very magnitude of the sum.
However, by dint of buying and not paying, of borrowing, signing bills, and renewing these bills that grew at each new falling-in, she had ended by preparing a capital for Monsieur Lheureux which he was impatiently awaiting for his speculations161.
She presented herself at his place with an offhand162 air.
“You know what has happened to me? No doubt it’s a joke!”
“How so?”
He turned away slowly, and, folding his arms, said to her —
“My good lady, did you think I should go on to all eternity being your purveyor163 and banker, for the love of God? Now be just. I must get back what I’ve laid out. Now be just.”
She cried out against the debt.
“Ah! so much the worse. The court has admitted it. There’s a judgment. It’s been notified to you. Besides, it isn’t my fault. It’s Vincart’s.”
“Could you not —?”
“Oh, nothing whatever.”
“But still, now talk it over.”
And she began beating about the bush; she had known nothing about it; it was a surprise.
“Whose fault is that?” said Lheureux, bowing ironically. “While I’m slaving like a nigger, you go gallivanting about.”
“Ah! no lecturing.”
“It never does any harm,” he replied.
She turned coward; she implored him; she even pressed her pretty white and slender hand against the shopkeeper’s knee.
“There, that’ll do! Anyone’d think you wanted to seduce24 me!”
“You are a wretch81!” she cried.
“Oh, oh! go it! go it!”
“I will show you up. I shall tell my husband.”
“All right! I too. I’ll show your husband something.”
And Lheureux drew from his strong box the receipt for eighteen hundred francs that she had given him when Vincart had discounted the bills.
“Do you think,” he added, “that he’ll not understand your little theft, the poor dear man?”
She collapsed164, more overcome than if felled by the blow of a pole-axe. He was walking up and down from the window to the bureau, repeating all the while —
“Ah! I’ll show him! I’ll show him!” Then he approached her, and in a soft voice said —
“It isn’t pleasant, I know; but, after all, no bones are broken, and, since that is the only way that is left for you paying back my money —”
“But where am I to get any?” said Emma, wringing165 her hands.
“Bah! when one has friends like you!”
And he looked at her in so keen, so terrible a fashion, that she shuddered166 to her very heart.
“I promise you,” she said, “to sign —”
“I’ve enough of your signatures.”
“I will sell something.”
“Get along!” he said, shrugging his shoulders; “you’ve not got anything.”
And he called through the peep-hole that looked down into the shop —
“Annette, don’t forget the three coupons167 of No. 14.”
The servant appeared. Emma understood, and asked how much money would be wanted to put a stop to the proceedings168.
“It is too late.”
“But if I brought you several thousand francs — a quarter of the sum — a third — perhaps the whole?”
“No; it’s no use!”
And he pushed her gently towards the staircase.
“I implore125 you, Monsieur Lheureux, just a few days more!” She was sobbing169.
“There! tears now!”
“You are driving me to despair!”
“What do I care?” said he, shutting the door.
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perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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3
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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4
pharmacy
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| n.药房，药剂学，制药业，配药业，一批备用药品 | |
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5
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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6
distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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7
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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8
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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9
bourgeois
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| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
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10
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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11
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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12
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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13
conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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14
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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15
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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16
torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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17
lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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18
quails
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| 鹌鹑( quail的名词复数 )； 鹌鹑肉 | |
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19
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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20
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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21
propounding
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| v.提出（问题、计划等）供考虑[讨论]，提议( propound的现在分词 ) | |
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22
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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23
seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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24
seduce
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| vt.勾引，诱奸，诱惑，引诱 | |
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25
chic
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| n./adj.别致(的)，时髦(的)，讲究的 | |
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26
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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28
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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29
licentious
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| adj.放纵的，淫乱的 | |
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30
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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31
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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32
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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33
alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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34
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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35
languorous
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| adj.怠惰的，没精打采的 | |
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36
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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37
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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38
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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39
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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40
quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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41
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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42
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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43
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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44
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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45
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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47
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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48
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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49
banal
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| adj.陈腐的，平庸的 | |
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50
avaricious
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| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
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51
calumniated
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| v.诽谤，中伤( calumniate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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53
alienates
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| v.使疏远( alienate的第三人称单数 )；使不友好；转让；让渡（财产等） | |
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54
idols
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| 偶像( idol的名词复数 )； 受崇拜的人或物； 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物； 神像 | |
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55
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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56
naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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57
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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58
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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59
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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61
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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62
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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63
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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64
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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65
glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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66
begrudged
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|
| 嫉妒( begrudge的过去式和过去分词 )； 勉强做； 不乐意地付出； 吝惜 | |
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67
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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68
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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69
languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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70
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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71
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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72
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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73
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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74
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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75
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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76
boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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77
satiety
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| n.饱和；(市场的)充分供应 | |
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78
metallic
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|
| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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79
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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80
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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81
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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82
rubicund
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| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
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83
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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84
clogs
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| 木屐； 木底鞋，木屐( clog的名词复数 ) | |
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85
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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86
ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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87
pawnbroking
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| n.典当业 | |
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88
pawn
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| n.典当，抵押，小人物，走卒；v.典当，抵押 | |
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89
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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90
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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91
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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92
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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93
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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94
installments
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| 部分( installment的名词复数 ) | |
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95
muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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96
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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97
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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98
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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99
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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100
probity
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| n.刚直；廉洁，正直 | |
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101
juggler
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| n. 变戏法者, 行骗者 | |
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102
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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103
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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104
postscript
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| n.附言，又及；(正文后的)补充说明 | |
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105
intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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106
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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107
rapaciously
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| adv.贪婪地；强取地，贪婪地 | |
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108
ostrich
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| n.鸵鸟 | |
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109
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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110
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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111
exorbitant
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| adj.过分的；过度的 | |
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112
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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113
banishing
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的现在分词 ) | |
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114
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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115
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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116
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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117
surfeited
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| v.吃得过多( surfeit的过去式和过去分词 )；由于过量而厌腻 | |
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118
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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119
deficit
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| n.亏空，亏损；赤字，逆差 | |
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120
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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121
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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122
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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123
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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124
intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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125
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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126
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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129
mediocre
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| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
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130
libertine
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| n.淫荡者；adj.放荡的，自由思想的 | |
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notary
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| n.公证人，公证员 | |
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132
debris
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| n.瓦砾堆，废墟，碎片 | |
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133
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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134
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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136
platitudes
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| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
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137
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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138
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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139
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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140
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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141
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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142
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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143
lusts
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| 贪求（lust的第三人称单数形式） | |
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144
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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146
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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148
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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149
consorting
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| v.结伴( consort的现在分词 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
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150
rebounding
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| 蹦跳运动 | |
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151
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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152
pulsation
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| n.脉搏，悸动，脉动；搏动性 | |
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153
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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154
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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155
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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156
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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157
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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159
notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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160
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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161
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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162
offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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163
purveyor
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| n.承办商，伙食承办商 | |
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164
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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165
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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166
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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167
coupons
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| n.礼券( coupon的名词复数 )；优惠券；订货单；参赛表 | |
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168
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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169
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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