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thus from above； the whole landscape looked immovable as a
picture； the anchored ships were massed in one corner； the river
curved round the foot of the green hills； and the isles； oblique
in shape； lay on the water； like large； motionless； black fishes。
The factory chimneys belched forth immense brown fumes that were
blown away at the top。 One heard the rumbling of the foundries；
together with the clear chimes of the churches that stood out in
the mist。 The leafless trees on the boulevards made violet
thickets in the midst of the houses； and the roofs； all shining
with the rain； threw back unequal reflections； according to the
height of the quarters in which they were。 Sometimes a gust of
wind drove the clouds towards the Saint Catherine hills； like
aerial waves that broke silently against a cliff。
A giddiness seemed to her to detach itself from this mass of
existence； and her heart swelled as if the hundred and twenty
thousand souls that palpitated there had all at once sent into it
the vapour of the passions she fancied theirs。 Her love grew in
the presence of this vastness； and expanded with tumult to the
vague murmurings that rose towards her。 She poured it out upon
the square； on the walks； on the streets； and the old Norman city
outspread before her eyes as an enormous capital； as a Babylon
into which she was entering。 She leant with both hands against
the window； drinking in the breeze； the three horses galloped；
the stones grated in the mud； the diligence rocked； and Hivert；
from afar； hailed the carts on the road； while the bourgeois who
had spent the night at the Guillaume woods came quietly down the
hill in their little family carriages。
They stopped at the barrier； Emma undid her overshoes； put on
other gloves； rearranged her shawl； and some twenty paces farther
she got down from the 〃Hirondelle。〃
The town was then awakening。 Shop…boys in caps were cleaning up
the shop…fronts； and women with baskets against their hips； at
intervals uttered sonorous cries at the corners of streets。 She
walked with downcast eyes； close to the walls； and smiling with
pleasure under her lowered black veil。
For fear of being seen； she did not usually take the most direct
road。 She plunged into dark alleys； and； all perspiring； reached
the bottom of the Rue Nationale； near the fountain that stands
there。 It； is the quarter for theatres； public…houses； and
whores。 Often a cart would pass near her； bearing some shaking
scenery。 Waiters in aprons were sprinkling sand on the flagstones
between green shrubs。 It all smelt of absinthe； cigars； and
oysters。
She turned down a street； she recognised him by his curling hair
that escaped from beneath his hat。
Leon walked along the pavement。 She followed him to the hotel。 He
went up； opened the door； enteredWhat an embrace！
Then； after the kisses； the words gushed forth。 They told each
other the sorrows of the week； the presentiments； the anxiety for
the letters； but now everything was forgotten； they gazed into
each other's faces with voluptuous laughs； and tender names。
The bed was large； of mahogany； in the shape of a boat。 The
curtains were in red levantine； that hung from the ceiling and
bulged out too much towards the bell…shaped bedside； and nothing
in the world was so lovely as her brown head and white skin
standing out against this purple colour； when； with a movement of
shame； she crossed her bare arms； hiding her face in her hands。
The warm room； with its discreet carpet； its gay ornaments； and
its calm light； seemed made for the intimacies of passion。 The
curtain…rods； ending in arrows； their brass pegs； and the great
balls of the fire…dogs shone suddenly when the sun came in。 On
the chimney between the candelabra there were two of those pink
shells in which one hears the murmur of the sea if one holds them
to the ear。
How they loved that dear room； so full of gaiety； despite its
rather faded splendour！ They always found the furniture in the
same place； and sometimes hairpins； that she had forgotten the
Thursday before； under the pedestal of the clock。 They lunched by
the fireside on a little round table； inlaid with rosewood。 Emma
carved； put bits on his plate with all sorts of coquettish ways；
and she laughed with a sonorous and libertine laugh when the
froth of the champagne ran over from the glass to the rings on
her fingers。 They were so completely lost in the possession of
each other that they thought themselves in their own house； and
that they would live there till death； like two spouses eternally
young。 They said 〃our room；〃 〃our carpet；〃 she even said 〃my
slippers；〃 a gift of Leon's； a whim she had had。 They were pink
satin； bordered with swansdown。 When she sat on his knees； her
leg； then too short； hung in the air； and the dainty shoe； that
had no back to it； was held only by the toes to her bare foot。
He for the first time enjoyed the inexpressible delicacy of
feminine refinements。 He had never met this grace of language；
this reserve of clothing； these poses of the weary dove。 He
admired the exaltation of her soul and the lace on her petticoat。
Besides； was she not 〃a lady〃 and a married womana real
mistress； in fine？
By the diversity of her humour； in turn mystical or mirthful；
talkative； taciturn； passionate； careless； she awakened in him a
thousand desires； called up instincts or memories。 She was the
mistress of all the novels； the heroine of all the dramas； the
vague 〃she〃 of all the volumes of verse。 He found again on her
shoulder the amber colouring of the 〃Odalisque Bathing〃； she had
the long waist of feudal chatelaines； and she resembled the 〃Pale
Woman of Barcelona。〃 But above all she was the Angel！
Often looking at her； it seemed to him that his soul； escaping
towards her； spread like a wave about the outline of her head；
and descended drawn down into the whiteness of her breast。 He
knelt on the ground before her； and with both elbows on her knees
looked at her with a smile； his face upturned。
She bent over him； and murmured； as if choking with intoxication
〃Oh； do not move！ do not speak！ look at me！ Something so sweet
comes from your eyes that helps me so much！〃
She called him 〃child。〃 〃Child； do you love me？〃
And she did not listen for his answer in the haste of her lips
that fastened to his mouth。
On the clock there was a bronze cupid； who smirked as he bent his
arm beneath a golden garland。 They had laughed at it many a time；
but when they had to part everything seemed serious to them。
Motionless in front of each other； they kept repeating； 〃Till
Thursday； till Thursday。〃
Suddenly she seized his head between her hands； kissed him
hurriedly on the forehead； crying； 〃Adieu！〃 and rushed down the
stairs。
She went to a hairdresser's in the Rue de la Comedie to have her
hair arranged。 Night fell； the gas was lighted in the shop。 She
heard the bell at the theatre calling the mummers to the
performance； and she saw； passing opposite； men with white faces
and women in faded gowns going in at the stage…door。
It was hot in the room； small； and too low where the stove was
hissing in the midst of wigs and pomades。