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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 231/303
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No
matter
!
She
was
not
happy
--
she
never
had
been
.
Whence
came
this
insufficiency
in
life
--
this
instantaneous
turning
to
decay
of
everything
on
which
she
leant
?
But
if
there
were
somewhere
a
being
strong
and
beautiful
,
a
valiant
nature
,
full
at
once
of
exaltation
and
refinement
,
a
poet
's
heart
in
an
angel
's
form
,
a
lyre
with
sounding
chords
ringing
out
elegiac
epithalamia
to
heaven
,
why
,
perchance
,
should
she
not
find
him
?
Ah
!
how
impossible
!
Besides
,
nothing
was
worth
the
trouble
of
seeking
it
;
everything
was
a
lie
.
Every
smile
hid
a
yawn
of
boredom
,
every
joy
a
curse
,
all
pleasure
satiety
,
and
the
sweetest
kisses
left
upon
your
lips
only
the
unattainable
desire
for
a
greater
delight
.
A
metallic
clang
droned
through
the
air
,
and
four
strokes
were
heard
from
the
convent-clock
.
Four
o'clock
!
And
it
seemed
to
her
that
she
had
been
there
on
that
form
an
eternity
.
But
an
infinity
of
passions
may
be
contained
in
a
minute
,
like
a
crowd
in
a
small
space
.
Emma
lived
all
absorbed
in
hers
,
and
troubled
no
more
about
money
matters
than
an
archduchess
.
Once
,
however
,
a
wretched-looking
man
,
rubicund
and
bald
,
came
to
her
house
,
saying
he
had
been
sent
by
Monsieur
Vincart
of
Rouen
.
He
took
out
the
pins
that
held
together
the
side-pockets
of
his
long
green
overcoat
,
stuck
them
into
his
sleeve
,
and
politely
handed
her
a
paper
.
It
was
a
bill
for
seven
hundred
francs
,
signed
by
her
,
and
which
Lheureux
,
in
spite
of
all
his
professions
,
had
paid
away
to
Vincart
.
She
sent
her
servant
for
him
.
He
could
not
come
.
Then
the
stranger
,
who
had
remained
standing
,
casting
right
and
left
curious
glances
,
that
his
thick
,
fair
eyebrows
hid
,
asked
with
a
naive
air
--
"
What
answer
am
I
to
take
Monsieur
Vincart
?
"
"
Oh
,
"
said
Emma
,
"
tell
him
that
I
have
n't
it
.
I
will
send
next
week
;
he
must
wait
;
yes
,
till
next
week
.
"
And
the
fellow
went
without
another
word
.
