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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 36/303
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She
grew
pale
and
suffered
from
palpitations
of
the
heart
.
Charles
prescribed
valerian
and
camphor
baths
.
Everything
that
was
tried
only
seemed
to
irritate
her
the
more
.
On
certain
days
she
chatted
with
feverish
rapidity
,
and
this
over-excitement
was
suddenly
followed
by
a
state
of
torpor
,
in
which
she
remained
without
speaking
,
without
moving
.
What
then
revived
her
was
pouring
a
bottle
of
eau-de-cologne
over
her
arms
.
As
she
was
constantly
complaining
about
Tostes
,
Charles
fancied
that
her
illness
was
no
doubt
due
to
some
local
cause
,
and
fixing
on
this
idea
,
began
to
think
seriously
of
setting
up
elsewhere
.
From
that
moment
she
drank
vinegar
,
contracted
a
sharp
little
cough
,
and
completely
lost
her
appetite
.
It
cost
Charles
much
to
give
up
Tostes
after
living
there
four
years
and
"
when
he
was
beginning
to
get
on
there
.
"
Yet
if
it
must
be
!
He
took
her
to
Rouen
to
see
his
old
master
.
It
was
a
nervous
complaint
:
change
of
air
was
needed
.
After
looking
about
him
on
this
side
and
on
that
,
Charles
learnt
that
in
the
Neufchatel
arrondissement
there
was
a
considerable
market
town
called
Yonville-l'Abbaye
,
whose
doctor
,
a
Polish
refugee
,
had
decamped
a
week
before
.
Then
he
wrote
to
the
chemist
of
the
place
to
ask
the
number
of
the
population
,
the
distance
from
the
nearest
doctor
,
what
his
predecessor
had
made
a
year
,
and
so
forth
;
and
the
answer
being
satisfactory
,
he
made
up
his
mind
to
move
towards
the
spring
,
if
Emma
's
health
did
not
improve
.
One
day
when
,
in
view
of
her
departure
,
she
was
tidying
a
drawer
,
something
pricked
her
finger
.
It
was
a
wire
of
her
wedding
bouquet
The
orange
blossoms
were
yellow
with
dust
and
the
silver
bordered
satin
ribbons
frayed
at
the
edges
.
She
threw
it
into
the
fire
.
It
flared
up
more
quickly
than
dry
straw
.
Then
it
was
,
like
a
red
bush
in
the
cinders
,
slowly
devoured
.
She
watched
it
burn
.
The
little
pasteboard
berries
burst
,
the
wire
twisted
,
the
gold
lace
melted
;
and
the
shriveled
paper
corollas
,
fluttering
like
black
butterflies
at
the
back
of
the
stove
,
at
least
flew
up
the
chimney
.
