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"
Ah
!
forgive
me
!
"
he
cried
,
drawing
back
.
Emma
was
seized
with
a
vague
fear
at
this
shyness
,
more
dangerous
to
her
than
the
boldness
of
Rodolphe
when
he
advanced
to
her
open-armed
.
No
man
had
ever
seemed
to
her
so
beautiful
.
An
exquisite
candour
emanated
from
his
being
.
He
lowered
his
long
fine
eyelashes
,
that
curled
upwards
.
His
cheek
,
with
the
soft
skin
reddened
,
she
thought
,
with
desire
of
her
person
,
and
Emma
felt
an
invincible
longing
to
press
her
lips
to
it
.
Then
,
leaning
towards
the
clock
as
if
to
see
the
time
--
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"
Ah
!
how
late
it
is
!
"
she
said
;
"
how
we
do
chatter
!
"
He
understood
the
hint
and
took
up
his
hat
.
"
It
has
even
made
me
forget
the
theatre
.
And
poor
Bovary
has
left
me
here
especially
for
that
.
Monsieur
Lormeaux
,
of
the
Rue
Grand-Pont
,
was
to
take
me
and
his
wife
.
"
And
the
opportunity
was
lost
,
as
she
was
to
leave
the
next
day
.
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"
Really
!
"
said
Leon
.
"
Yes
.
"
"
But
I
must
see
you
again
,
"
he
went
on
.
"
I
wanted
to
tell
you
--
"