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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 301/303
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In
the
evening
in
summer
he
took
his
little
girl
with
him
and
led
her
to
the
cemetery
.
They
came
back
at
nightfall
,
when
the
only
light
left
in
the
Place
was
that
in
Binet
's
window
.
The
voluptuousness
of
his
grief
was
,
however
,
incomplete
,
for
he
had
no
one
near
him
to
share
it
,
and
he
paid
visits
to
Madame
Lefrancois
to
be
able
to
speak
of
her
.
But
the
landlady
only
listened
with
half
an
ear
,
having
troubles
like
himself
.
For
Lheureux
had
at
last
established
the
"
Favorites
du
Commerce
,
"
and
Hivert
,
who
enjoyed
a
great
reputation
for
doing
errands
,
insisted
on
a
rise
of
wages
,
and
was
threatening
to
go
over
"
to
the
opposition
shop
.
"
One
day
when
he
had
gone
to
the
market
at
Argueil
to
sell
his
horse
--
his
last
resource
--
he
met
Rodolphe
.
They
both
turned
pale
when
they
caught
sight
of
one
another
.
Rodolphe
,
who
had
only
sent
his
card
,
first
stammered
some
apologies
,
then
grew
bolder
,
and
even
pushed
his
assurance
(
it
was
in
the
month
of
August
and
very
hot
)
to
the
length
of
inviting
him
to
have
a
bottle
of
beer
at
the
public-house
.
Leaning
on
the
table
opposite
him
,
he
chewed
his
cigar
as
he
talked
,
and
Charles
was
lost
in
reverie
at
this
face
that
she
had
loved
.
He
seemed
to
see
again
something
of
her
in
it
.
It
was
a
marvel
to
him
.
He
would
have
liked
to
have
been
this
man
.
The
other
went
on
talking
agriculture
,
cattle
,
pasturage
,
filling
out
with
banal
phrases
all
the
gaps
where
an
allusion
might
slip
in
.
Charles
was
not
listening
to
him
;
Rodolphe
noticed
it
,
and
he
followed
the
succession
of
memories
that
crossed
his
face
.
This
gradually
grew
redder
;
the
nostrils
throbbed
fast
,
the
lips
quivered
.
There
was
at
last
a
moment
when
Charles
,
full
of
a
sombre
fury
,
fixed
his
eyes
on
Rodolphe
,
who
,
in
something
of
fear
,
stopped
talking
.
But
soon
the
same
look
of
weary
lassitude
came
back
to
his
face
.
"
I
do
n't
blame
you
,
"
he
said
.
Rodolphe
was
dumb
.
And
Charles
,
his
head
in
his
hands
,
went
on
in
a
broken
voice
,
and
with
the
resigned
accent
of
infinite
sorrow
--
