-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Гюстав Флобер
-
- Госпожа Бовари
-
- Стр. 194/303
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Yet
nothing
forced
her
to
go
;
but
she
had
given
her
word
that
she
would
return
that
same
evening
.
Moreover
,
Charles
expected
her
,
and
in
her
heart
she
felt
already
that
cowardly
docility
that
is
for
some
women
at
once
the
chastisement
and
atonement
of
adultery
.
She
packed
her
box
quickly
,
paid
her
bill
,
took
a
cab
in
the
yard
,
hurrying
on
the
driver
,
urging
him
on
,
every
moment
inquiring
about
the
time
and
the
miles
traversed
.
He
succeeded
in
catching
up
the
"
Hirondelle
"
as
it
neared
the
first
houses
of
Quincampoix
.
Hardly
was
she
seated
in
her
corner
than
she
closed
her
eyes
,
and
opened
them
at
the
foot
of
the
hill
,
when
from
afar
she
recognised
Felicite
,
who
was
on
the
lookout
in
front
of
the
farrier
's
shop
.
Hivert
pulled
in
his
horses
and
,
the
servant
,
climbing
up
to
the
window
,
said
mysteriously
--
"
Madame
,
you
must
go
at
once
to
Monsieur
Homais
.
It
's
for
something
important
.
"
The
village
was
silent
as
usual
.
At
the
corner
of
the
streets
were
small
pink
heaps
that
smoked
in
the
air
,
for
this
was
the
time
for
jam-making
,
and
everyone
at
Yonville
prepared
his
supply
on
the
same
day
.
But
in
front
of
the
chemist
's
shop
one
might
admire
a
far
larger
heap
,
and
that
surpassed
the
others
with
the
superiority
that
a
laboratory
must
have
over
ordinary
stores
,
a
general
need
over
individual
fancy
.
She
went
in
.
The
large
arm-chair
was
upset
,
and
even
the
"
Fanal
de
Rouen
"
lay
on
the
ground
,
outspread
between
two
pestles
.
She
pushed
open
the
lobby
door
,
and
in
the
middle
of
the
kitchen
,
amid
brown
jars
full
of
picked
currants
,
of
powdered
sugar
and
lump
sugar
,
of
the
scales
on
the
table
,
and
of
the
pans
on
the
fire
,
she
saw
all
the
Homais
,
small
and
large
,
with
aprons
reaching
to
their
chins
,
and
with
forks
in
their
hands
.
Justin
was
standing
up
with
bowed
head
,
and
the
chemist
was
screaming
--
"
Who
told
you
to
go
and
fetch
it
in
the
Capharnaum
.
"
"
What
is
it
?
What
is
the
matter
?
"
"
What
is
it
?
"
replied
the
druggist
.
"
We
are
making
preserves
;
they
are
simmering
;
but
they
were
about
to
boil
over
,
because
there
is
too
much
juice
,
and
I
ordered
another
pan
.
Then
he
,
from
indolence
,
from
laziness
,
went
and
took
,
hanging
on
its
nail
in
my
laboratory
,
the
key
of
the
Capharnaum
.
"
