Theyhadall，MonsieurandMadameBovary，Homais，andMonsieurLeon，gonetoseeayarn-millthatwasbeingbuiltinthevalleyamileandahalffromYonville。ThedruggisthadtakenNapoleonandAthalietogivethemsomeexercise，andJustinaccompaniedthem，carryingtheumbrellasonhisshoulder。
Nothing，however，couldbelesscuriousthanthiscuriosity。A
greatpieceofwasteground，onwhichpell-mell，amidamassofsandandstones，wereafewbreak-wheels，alreadyrusty，surroundedbyaquadrangularbuildingpiercedbyanumberoflittlewindows。Thebuildingwasunfinished；theskycouldbeseenthroughthejoistsoftheroofing。Attachedtothestop-plankofthegableabunchofstrawmixedwithcorn-earsfluttereditstricolouredribbonsinthewind。
Homaiswastalking。Heexplainedtothecompanythefutureimportanceofthisestablishment，computedthestrengthofthefloorings，thethicknessofthewalls，andregrettedextremelynothavingayard-sticksuchasMonsieurBinetpossessedforhisownspecialuse。
Emma，whohadtakenhisarm，bentlightlyagainsthisshoulder，andshelookedatthesun’sdiscsheddingafarthroughthemisthispalesplendour。Sheturned。Charleswasthere。Hiscapwasdrawndownoverhiseyebrows，andhistwothicklipsweretrembling，whichaddedalookofstupiditytohisface；hisveryback，hiscalmback，wasirritatingtobehold，andshesawwrittenuponhiscoatalltheplatitudeofthebearer。
Whileshewasconsideringhimthus，tastinginherirritationasortofdepravedpleasure，Leonmadeastepforward。Thecoldthatmadehimpaleseemedtoaddamoregentlelanguortohisface；betweenhiscravatandhisneckthesomewhatloosecollarofhisshirtshowedtheskin；thelobeofhisearlookedoutfrombeneathalockofhair，andhislargeblueeyes，raisedtotheclouds，seemedtoEmmamorelimpidandmorebeautifulthanthosemountain-lakeswheretheheavensaremirrored。
“Wretchedboy!“suddenlycriedthechemist。
Andherantohisson，whohadjustprecipitatedhimselfintoaheapoflimeinordertowhitenhisboots。AtthereproacheswithwhichhewasbeingoverwhelmedNapoleonbegantoroar，whileJustindriedhisshoeswithawispofstraw。Butaknifewaswanted；Charlesofferedhis。
“Ah!“shesaidtoherself，“hecarriedaknifeinhispocketlikeapeasant。“
Thehoar-frostwasfalling，andtheyturnedbacktoYonville。
IntheeveningMadameBovarydidnotgotoherneighbour’s，andwhenCharleshadleftandshefeltherselfalone，thecomparisonre-beganwiththeclearnessofasensationalmostactual，andwiththatlengtheningofperspectivewhichmemorygivestothings。Lookingfromherbedatthecleanfirethatwasburning，shestillsaw，asshehaddownthere，Leonstandingupwithonehandbehindhiscane，andwiththeotherholdingAthalie，whowasquietlysuckingapieceofice。Shethoughthimcharming；shecouldnottearherselfawayfromhim；sherecalledhisotherattitudesonotherdays，thewordshehadspoken，thesoundofhisvoice，hiswholeperson；andsherepeated，poutingoutherlipsasifforakiss——
“Yes，charming!charming!Ishenotinlove？“sheaskedherself；
“butwithwhom？Withme？“
Alltheproofsarosebeforeheratonce；herheartleapt。Theflameofthefirethrewajoyouslightupontheceiling；sheturnedonherback，stretchingoutherarms。
Thenbegantheeternallamentation：“Oh，ifHeavenhadoutwilledit!Andwhynot？Whatpreventedit？“
WhenCharlescamehomeatmidnight，sheseemedtohavejustawakened，andashemadeanoiseundressing，shecomplainedofaheadache，thenaskedcarelesslywhathadhappenedthatevening。
“MonsieurLeon，“hesaid，“wenttohisroomearly。“
Shecouldnothelpsmiling，andshefellasleep，hersoulfilledwithanewdelight。
Thenextday，atdusk，shereceivedavisitfromMonsieurLherueux，thedraper。Hewasamanofability，wasthisshopkeeper。BornaGasconbutbredaNorman，hegrafteduponhissouthernvolubilitythecunningoftheCauchois。Hisfat，flabby，beardlessfaceseemeddyedbyadecoctionofliquorice，andhiswhitehairmadeevenmorevividthekeenbrillianceofhissmallblackeyes。Nooneknewwhathehadbeenformerly；apedlarsaidsome，abankeratRoutotaccordingtoothers。WhatwascertainwasthathemadecomplexcalculationsinhisheadthatwouldhavefrightenedBinethimself。Politetoobsequiousness，healwaysheldhimselfwithhisbackbentinthepositionofonewhobowsorwhoinvites。
Afterleavingatthedoorhishatsurroundedwithcrape，heputdownagreenbandboxonthetable，andbeganbycomplainingtomadame，withmanycivilities，thatheshouldhaveremainedtillthatdaywithoutgainingherconfidence。Apoorshoplikehiswasnotmadetoattracta“fashionablelady“；heemphasizedthewords；yetshehadonlytocommand，andhewouldundertaketoprovideherwithanythingshemightwish，eitherinhaberdasheryorlinen，millineryorfancygoods，forhewenttotownregularlyfourtimesamonth。Hewasconnectedwiththebesthouses。Youcouldspeakofhimatthe“TroisFreres，“atthe“Barbed’Or，“oratthe“GrandSauvage“；allthesegentlemenknewhimaswellastheinsidesoftheirpockets。To-day，thenhehadcometoshowmadame，inpassing，variousarticleshehappenedtohave，thankstothemostrareopportunity。Andhepulledouthalf-a-dozenembroideredcollarsfromthebox。
MadameBovaryexaminedthem。“Idonotrequireanything，“shesaid。
ThenMonsieurLheureuxdelicatelyexhibitedthreeAlgerianscarves，severalpacketofEnglishneedles，apairofstrawslippers，andfinally，foureggcupsincocoanutwood，carvedinopenworkbyconvicts。Then，withbothhandsonthetable，hisneckstretchedout，hisfigurebentforward，open-mouthed，hewatchedEmma’slook，whowaswalkingupanddownundecidedamidthesegoods。Fromtimetotime，asiftoremovesomedust，hefillipedwithhisnailthesilkofthescarvesspreadoutatfulllength，andtheyrustledwithalittlenoise，makinginthegreentwilightthegoldspanglesoftheirtissuescintillatelikelittlestars。
“Howmucharethey？“
“Amerenothing，“hereplied，“amerenothing。Butthere’snohurry；wheneverit’sconvenient。WearenotJews。“
Shereflectedforafewmoments，andendedbyagaindecliningMonsieurLheureux’soffer。Herepliedquiteunconcernedly——
“Verywell。Weshallunderstandoneanotherbyandby。Ihavealwaysgotonwithladies——ifIdidn’twithmyown!“
Emmasmiled。
“Iwantedtotellyou，“hewentongood-naturedly，afterhisjoke，“thatitisn’tthemoneyIshouldtroubleabout。Why，I
couldgiveyousome，ifneedbe。“
Shemadeagestureofsurprise。
“Ah!“saidhequicklyandinalowvoice，“Ishouldn’thavetogofartofindyousome，relyonthat。“
AndhebeganaskingafterPereTellier，theproprietorofthe“CafeFrancais，“whomMonsieurBovarywasthenattending。
“What’sthematterwithPereTellier？Hecoughssothatheshakeshiswholehouse，andI’mafraidhe’llsoonwantadealcoveringratherthanaflannelvest。Hewassucharakeasayoungman!
Thosesortofpeople，madame，havenottheleastregularity；he’sburntupwithbrandy。Stillit’ssad，allthesame，toseeanacquaintancegooff。“
Andwhilehefasteneduphisboxhediscoursedaboutthedoctor’spatients。
“It’stheweather，nodoubt，“hesaid，lookingfrowninglyatthefloor，“thatcausestheseillnesses。I，too，don’tfeelthething。OneofthesedaysIshallevenhavetoconsultthedoctorforapainIhaveinmyback。Well，good-bye，MadameBovary。Atyourservice；yourveryhumbleservant。“Andheclosedthedoorgently。
Emmahadherdinnerservedinherbedroomonatraybythefireside；shewasalongtimeoverit；everythingwaswellwithher。
“HowgoodIwas!“shesaidtoherself，thinkingofthescarves。
Sheheardsomestepsonthestairs。ItwasLeon。Shegotupandtookfromthechestofdrawersthefirstpileofdusterstobehemmed。Whenhecameinsheseemedverybusy。
Theconversationlanguished；MadameBovarygaveitupeveryfewminutes，whilsthehimselfseemedquiteembarrassed。Seatedonalowchairnearthefire，heturnedroundinhisfingerstheivorythimble-case。Shestitchedon，orfromtimetotimeturneddownthehemoftheclothwithhernail。Shedidnotspeak；hewassilent，captivatedbyhersilence，ashewouldhavebeenbyherspeech。
“Poorfellow!“shethought。
“HowhaveIdispleasedher？“heaskedhimself。
Atlast，however，Leonsaidthatheshouldhave，oneofthesedays，togotoRouenonsomeofficebusiness。
“Yourmusicsubscriptionisout；amItorenewit？“
“No，“shereplied。
“Why？“
“Because——“
Andpursingherlipssheslowlydrewalongstitchofgreythread。
ThisworkirritatedLeon。Itseemedtoroughentheendsofherfingers。Agallantphrasecameintohishead，buthedidnotriskit。
“Thenyouaregivingitup？“hewenton。
“What？“sheaskedhurriedly。“Music？Ah!yes!HaveInotmyhousetolookafter，myhusbandtoattendto，athousandthings，infact，manydutiesthatmustbeconsideredfirst？“