Withhiselbowsonthelongboardonwhichshewasironing，hegreedilywatchedallthesewomen’sclothesspreadabouthim，thedimitypetticoats，thefichus，thecollars，andthedrawerswithrunningstrings，wideatthehipsandgrowingnarrowerbelow。
“Whatisthatfor？“askedtheyoungfellow，passinghishandoverthecrinolineorthehooksandeyes。
“Why，haven’tyoueverseenanything？“Feliciteansweredlaughing。“Asifyourmistress，MadameHomais，didn’twearthesame。“
“Oh，Idaresay!MadameHomais!“Andheaddedwithameditativeair，“Asifshewerealadylikemadame!“
ButFelicitegrewimpatientofseeinghimhangingroundher。Shewassixyearsolderthanhe，andTheodore，MonsieurGuillaumin’sservant，wasbeginningtopaycourttoher。
“Letmealone，“shesaid，movingherpotofstarch。“You’dbetterbeoffandpoundalmonds；youarealwaysdanglingaboutwomen。
Beforeyoumeddlewithsuchthings，badboy，waittillyou’vegotabeardtoyourchin。“
“Oh，don’tbecross!I’llgoandcleanherboots。“
AndheatoncetookdownfromtheshelfEmma’sboots，allcoatedwithmud，themudoftherendezvous，thatcrumbledintopowderbeneathhisfingers，andthathewatchedasitgentlyroseinarayofsunlight。
“Howafraidyouareofspoilingthem!“saidtheservant，whowasn’tsoparticularwhenshecleanedthemherself，becauseassoonasthestuffofthebootswasnolongerfreshmadamehandedthemovertoher。
Emmahadanumberinhercupboardthatshesquanderedoneaftertheother，withoutCharlesallowinghimselftheslightestobservation。SoalsohedisbursedthreehundredfrancsforawoodenlegthatshethoughtpropertomakeapresentoftoHippolyte。Itstopwascoveredwithcork，andithadspringjoints，acomplicatedmechanism，coveredoverbyblacktrousersendinginapatent-leatherboot。ButHippolyte，notdaringtousesuchahandsomelegeveryday，beggedMadameBovarytogethimanothermoreconvenientone。Thedoctor，ofcourse，hadagaintodefraytheexpenseofthispurchase。
Solittlebylittlethestable-mantookuphisworkagain。Onesawhimrunningaboutthevillageasbefore，andwhenCharlesheardfromafarthesharpnoiseofthewoodenleg，heatoncewentinanotherdirection。
ItwasMonsieurLheureux，theshopkeeper，whohadundertakentheorder；thisprovidedhimwithanexcuseforvisitingEmma。HechattedwithheraboutthenewgoodsfromParis，aboutathousandfemininetrifles，madehimselfveryobliging，andneveraskedforhismoney。Emmayieldedtothislazymodeofsatisfyingallhercaprices。Thusshewantedtohaveaveryhandsomeridding-whipthatwasatanumbrella-maker’satRouentogivetoRodolphe。TheweekafterMonsieurLheureuxplaceditonhertable。
Butthenextdayhecalledonherwithabillfortwohundredandseventyfrancs，notcountingthecentimes。Emmawasmuchembarrassed；allthedrawersofthewriting-tablewereempty；
theyowedoverafortnight’swagestoLestiboudois，twoquarterstotheservant，foranyquantityofotherthings，andBovarywasimpatientlyexpectingMonsieurDerozeray’saccount，whichhewasinthehabitofpayingeveryyearaboutMidsummer。
ShesucceededatfirstinputtingoffLheureux。Atlasthelostpatience；hewasbeingsued；hiscapitalwasout，andunlesshegotsomeinheshouldbeforcedtotakebackallthegoodsshehadreceived。
“Oh，verywell，takethem!“saidEmma。
“Iwasonlyjoking，“hereplied；“theonlythingIregretisthewhip。Myword!I’llaskmonsieurtoreturnittome。“
“No，no!“shesaid。
“Ah!I’vegotyou!“thoughtLheureux。
And，certainofhisdiscovery，hewentoutrepeatingtohimselfinanundertone，andwithhisusuallowwhistle——
“Good!weshallsee!weshallsee!“
Shewasthinkinghowtogetoutofthiswhentheservantcominginputonthemantelpieceasmallrollofbluepaper“fromMonsieurDerozeray’s。“Emmapounceduponandopenedit。Itcontainedfifteennapoleons；itwastheaccount。SheheardCharlesonthestairs；threwthegoldtothebackofherdrawer，andtookoutthekeyThreedaysafterLheureuxreappeared。
“Ihaveanarrangementtosuggesttoyou，“hesaid。“If，insteadofthesumagreedon，youwouldtake——“
“Hereitis，“shesaidplacingfourteennapoleonsinhishand。
Thetradesmanwasdumfounded。Then，toconcealhisdisappointment，hewasprofuseinapologiesandproffersofservice，allofwhichEmmadeclined；thensheremainedafewmomentsfingeringinthepocketofherapronthetwofive-francpiecesthathehadgivenherinchange。Shepromisedherselfshewouldeconomiseinordertopaybacklateron。“Pshaw!“shethought，“hewon’tthinkaboutitagain。“
Besidestheriding-whipwithitssilver-gilthandle，RodolphehadreceivedasealwiththemottoAmornelcor*furthermore，ascarfforamuffler，and，finally，acigar-caseexactlyliketheViscount’s，thatCharleshadformerlypickedupintheroad，andthatEmmahadkept。Thesepresents，however，humiliatedhim；herefusedseveral；sheinsisted，andheendedbyobeying，thinkinghertyrannicalandoverexacting。
*Alovingheart。
Thenshehadstrangeideas。
“Whenmidnightstrikes，“shesaid，“youmustthinkofme。“
Andifheconfessedthathehadnotthoughtofher，therewerefloodsofreproachesthatalwaysendedwiththeeternalquestion——
“Doyouloveme？“
“Why，ofcourseIloveyou，“heanswered。
“Agreatdeal？“
“Certainly!“
“Youhaven’tlovedanyothers？“
“Didyouthinkyou’dgotavirgin？“heexclaimedlaughing。
Emmacried，andhetriedtoconsoleher，adorninghisprotestationswithpuns。
“Oh，“shewenton，“Iloveyou!IloveyousothatIcouldnotlivewithoutyou，doyousee？TherearetimeswhenIlongtoseeyouagain，whenIamtornbyalltheangeroflove。Iaskmyself，Whereishe？Perhapsheistalkingtootherwomen。Theysmileuponhim；heapproaches。Ohno；nooneelsepleasesyou。Therearesomemorebeautiful，butIloveyoubest。Iknowhowtolovebest。Iamyourservant，yourconcubine!Youaremyking，myidol!Youaregood，youarebeautiful，youareclever，youarestrong!“
Hehadsooftenheardthesethingssaidthattheydidnotstrikehimasoriginal。Emmawaslikeallhismistresses；andthecharmofnovelty，graduallyfallingawaylikeagarment，laidbaretheeternalmonotonyofpassion，thathasalwaysthesameformsandthesamelanguage。Hedidnotdistinguish，thismanofsomuchexperience，thedifferenceofsentimentbeneaththesamenessofexpression。Becauselipslibertineandvenalhadmurmuredsuchwordstohim，hebelievedbutlittleinthecandourofhers；
exaggeratedspeecheshidingmediocreaffectionsmustbediscounted；asifthefullnessofthesouldidnotsometimesoverflowintheemptiestmetaphors，sincenoonecanevergivetheexactmeasureofhisneeds，norofhisconceptions，norofhissorrows；andsincehumanspeechislikeacrackedtinkettle，onwhichwehammerouttunestomaketearsdancewhenwelongtomovethestars。
Butwiththatsuperiorcriticaljudgmentthatbelongstohimwho，innomatterwhatcircumstance，holdsback，Rodolphesawotherdelightstobegotoutofthislove。Hethoughtallmodestyintheway。Hetreatedherquitesansfacon。*Hemadeofhersomethingsuppleandcorrupt。Herswasanidioticsortofattachment，fullofadmirationforhim，ofvoluptuousnessforher，abeatitudethatbenumbedher；hersoulsankintothisdrunkenness，shrivelledup，drownedinit，likeClarenceinhisbuttofMalmsey。
*Off-handedly。
BythemereeffectofherloveMadameBovary’smannerschanged。
Herlooksgrewbolder，herspeechmorefree；sheevencommittedtheimproprietyofwalkingoutwithMonsieurRodolphe，acigaretteinhermouth，“asiftodefythepeople。“Atlast，thosewhostilldoubteddoubtednolongerwhenonedaytheysawhergettingoutofthe“Hirondelle，“herwaistsqueezedintoawaistcoatlikeaman；andMadameBovarysenior，who，afterafearfulscenewithherhusband，hadtakenrefugeatherson’s，wasnottheleastscandalisedofthewomen-folk。Manyotherthingsdispleasedher。First，Charleshadnotattendedtoheradviceabouttheforbiddingofnovels；thenthe“waysofthehouse“annoyedher；sheallowedherselftomakesomeremarks，andtherewerequarrels，especiallyoneonaccountofFelicite。
MadameBovarysenior，theeveningbefore，passingalongthepassage，hadsurprisedherincompanyofaman——amanwithabrowncollar，aboutfortyyearsold，who，atthesoundofherstep，hadquicklyescapedthroughthekitchen。ThenEmmabegantolaugh，butthegoodladygrewangry，declaringthatunlessmoralsweretobelaughedatoneoughttolookafterthoseofone’sservants。
“Wherewereyoubroughtup？“askedthedaughter-in-law，withsoimpertinentalookthatMadameBovaryaskedherifshewerenotperhapsdefendingherowncase。
“Leavetheroom!“saidtheyoungwoman，springingupwithabound。
“Emma!Mamma!“criedCharles，tryingtoreconcilethem。