-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Гюстав Флобер
-
- Госпожа Бовари
-
- Стр. 35/303
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Then
she
went
up
again
,
shut
her
door
,
put
on
coals
,
and
fainting
with
the
heat
of
the
hearth
,
felt
her
boredom
weigh
more
heavily
than
ever
.
She
would
have
like
to
go
down
and
talk
to
the
servant
,
but
a
sense
of
shame
restrained
her
.
Every
day
at
the
same
time
the
schoolmaster
in
a
black
skullcap
opened
the
shutters
of
his
house
,
and
the
rural
policeman
,
wearing
his
sabre
over
his
blouse
,
passed
by
.
Night
and
morning
the
post-horses
,
three
by
three
,
crossed
the
street
to
water
at
the
pond
.
From
time
to
time
the
bell
of
a
public
house
door
rang
,
and
when
it
was
windy
one
could
hear
the
little
brass
basins
that
served
as
signs
for
the
hairdresser
's
shop
creaking
on
their
two
rods
.
This
shop
had
as
decoration
an
old
engraving
of
a
fashion-plate
stuck
against
a
windowpane
and
the
wax
bust
of
a
woman
with
yellow
hair
.
He
,
too
,
the
hairdresser
,
lamented
his
wasted
calling
,
his
hopeless
future
,
and
dreaming
of
some
shop
in
a
big
town
--
at
Rouen
,
for
example
,
overlooking
the
harbour
,
near
the
theatre
--
he
walked
up
and
down
all
day
from
the
mairie
to
the
church
,
sombre
and
waiting
for
customers
.
When
Madame
Bovary
looked
up
,
she
always
saw
him
there
,
like
a
sentinel
on
duty
,
with
his
skullcap
over
his
ears
and
his
vest
of
lasting
.
Sometimes
in
the
afternoon
outside
the
window
of
her
room
,
the
head
of
a
man
appeared
,
a
swarthy
head
with
black
whiskers
,
smiling
slowly
,
with
a
broad
,
gentle
smile
that
showed
his
white
teeth
.
A
waltz
immediately
began
and
on
the
organ
,
in
a
little
drawing
room
,
dancers
the
size
of
a
finger
,
women
in
pink
turbans
,
Tyrolians
in
jackets
,
monkeys
in
frock
coats
,
gentlemen
in
knee-breeches
,
turned
and
turned
between
the
sofas
,
the
consoles
,
multiplied
in
the
bits
of
looking
glass
held
together
at
their
corners
by
a
piece
of
gold
paper
.
The
man
turned
his
handle
,
looking
to
the
right
and
left
,
and
up
at
the
windows
.
Now
and
again
,
while
he
shot
out
a
long
squirt
of
brown
saliva
against
the
milestone
,
with
his
knee
raised
his
instrument
,
whose
hard
straps
tired
his
shoulder
;
and
now
,
doleful
and
drawling
,
or
gay
and
hurried
,
the
music
escaped
from
the
box
,
droning
through
a
curtain
of
pink
taffeta
under
a
brass
claw
in
arabesque
.
They
were
airs
played
in
other
places
at
the
theatres
,
sung
in
drawing
rooms
,
danced
to
at
night
under
lighted
lustres
,
echoes
of
the
world
that
reached
even
to
Emma
.
Endless
sarabands
ran
through
her
head
,
and
,
like
an
Indian
dancing
girl
on
the
flowers
of
a
carpet
,
her
thoughts
leapt
with
the
notes
,
swung
from
dream
to
dream
,
from
sadness
to
sadness
.
When
the
man
had
caught
some
coppers
in
his
cap
,
he
drew
down
an
old
cover
of
blue
cloth
,
hitched
his
organ
on
to
his
back
,
and
went
off
with
a
heavy
tread
.
She
watched
him
going
.
But
it
was
above
all
the
meal-times
that
were
unbearable
to
her
,
in
this
small
room
on
the
ground
floor
,
with
its
smoking
stove
,
its
creaking
door
,
the
walls
that
sweated
,
the
damp
flags
;
all
the
bitterness
in
life
seemed
served
up
on
her
plate
,
and
with
smoke
of
the
boiled
beef
there
rose
from
her
secret
soul
whiffs
of
sickliness
.
Charles
was
a
slow
eater
;
she
played
with
a
few
nuts
,
or
,
leaning
on
her
elbow
,
amused
herself
with
drawing
lines
along
the
oilcloth
table
cover
with
the
point
of
her
knife
.
She
now
let
everything
in
her
household
take
care
of
itself
,
and
Madame
Bovary
senior
,
when
she
came
to
spend
part
of
Lent
at
Tostes
,
was
much
surprised
at
the
change
.
She
who
was
formerly
so
careful
,
so
dainty
,
now
passed
whole
days
without
dressing
,
wore
grey
cotton
stockings
,
and
burnt
tallow
candles
.
She
kept
saying
they
must
be
economical
since
they
were
not
rich
,
adding
that
she
was
very
contented
,
very
happy
,
that
Tostes
pleased
her
very
much
,
with
other
speeches
that
closed
the
mouth
of
her
mother-in-law
.
Besides
,
Emma
no
longer
seemed
inclined
to
follow
her
advice
;
once
even
,
Madame
Bovary
having
thought
fit
to
maintain
that
mistresses
ought
to
keep
an
eye
on
the
religion
of
their
servants
,
she
had
answered
with
so
angry
a
look
and
so
cold
a
smile
that
the
good
woman
did
not
interfere
again
.
Emma
was
growing
difficult
,
capricious
.
She
ordered
dishes
for
herself
,
then
she
did
not
touch
them
;
one
day
drank
only
pure
milk
,
the
next
cups
of
tea
by
the
dozen
.
Often
she
persisted
in
not
going
out
,
then
,
stifling
,
threw
open
the
windows
and
put
on
light
dresses
.
After
she
had
well
scolded
her
servant
she
gave
her
presents
or
sent
her
out
to
see
neighbours
,
just
as
she
sometimes
threw
beggars
all
the
silver
in
her
purse
,
although
she
was
by
no
means
tender-hearted
or
easily
accessible
to
the
feelings
of
others
,
like
most
country-bred
people
,
who
always
retain
in
their
souls
something
of
the
horny
hardness
of
the
paternal
hands
.
Towards
the
end
of
February
old
Rouault
,
in
memory
of
his
cure
,
himself
brought
his
son-in-law
a
superb
turkey
,
and
stayed
three
days
at
Tostes
.
Charles
being
with
his
patients
,
Emma
kept
him
company
.
He
smoked
in
the
room
,
spat
on
the
firedogs
,
talked
farming
,
calves
,
cows
,
poultry
,
and
municipal
council
,
so
that
when
he
left
she
closed
the
door
on
him
with
a
feeling
of
satisfaction
that
surprised
even
herself
.
Moreover
she
no
longer
concealed
her
contempt
for
anything
or
anybody
,
and
at
times
she
set
herself
to
express
singular
opinions
,
finding
fault
with
that
which
others
approved
,
and
approving
things
perverse
and
immoral
,
all
of
which
made
her
husband
open
his
eyes
widely
.
Would
this
misery
last
for
ever
?
Would
she
never
issue
from
it
?
Yet
she
was
as
good
as
all
the
women
who
were
living
happily
.
She
had
seen
duchesses
at
Vaubyessard
with
clumsier
waists
and
commoner
ways
,
and
she
execrated
the
injustice
of
God
.
She
leant
her
head
against
the
walls
to
weep
;
she
envied
lives
of
stir
;
longed
for
masked
balls
,
for
violent
pleasures
,
with
all
the
wildness
that
she
did
not
know
,
but
that
these
must
surely
yield
.
