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At
sight
of
Emma
he
seemed
relieved
from
a
great
weight
,
and
at
once
entered
upon
a
conversation
.
"
It
is
n't
warm
;
it
's
nipping
.
"
Emma
answered
nothing
.
He
went
on
--
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"
And
you
're
out
so
early
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
she
said
stammering
;
"
I
am
just
coming
from
the
nurse
where
my
child
is
.
"
"
Ah
!
very
good
!
very
good
!
For
myself
,
I
am
here
,
just
as
you
see
me
,
since
break
of
day
;
but
the
weather
is
so
muggy
,
that
unless
one
had
the
bird
at
the
mouth
of
the
gun
--
"
"
Good
evening
,
Monsieur
Binet
,
"
she
interrupted
him
,
turning
on
her
heel
.
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"
Your
servant
,
madame
,
"
he
replied
drily
;
and
he
went
back
into
his
tub
.
Emma
regretted
having
left
the
tax-collector
so
abruptly
.
No
doubt
he
would
form
unfavourable
conjectures
.
The
story
about
the
nurse
was
the
worst
possible
excuse
,
everyone
at
Yonville
knowing
that
the
little
Bovary
had
been
at
home
with
her
parents
for
a
year
.
Besides
,
no
one
was
living
in
this
direction
;
this
path
led
only
to
La
Huchette
.
Binet
,
then
,
would
guess
whence
she
came
,
and
he
would
not
keep
silence
;
he
would
talk
,
that
was
certain
.
She
remained
until
evening
racking
her
brain
with
every
conceivable
lying
project
,
and
had
constantly
before
her
eyes
that
imbecile
with
the
game-bag
.
Charles
after
dinner
,
seeing
her
gloomy
,
proposed
,
by
way
of
distraction
,
to
take
her
to
the
chemist
's
,
and
the
first
person
she
caught
sight
of
in
the
shop
was
the
taxcollector
again
.
He
was
standing
in
front
of
the
counter
,
lit
up
by
the
gleams
of
the
red
bottle
,
and
was
saying
--