Atnineo’clockinthemorningshewasawakenedbythesoundofvoicesinthePlace。Therewasacrowdroundthemarketreadingalargebillfixedtooneoftheposts，andshesawJustin，whowasclimbingontoastoneandtearingdownthebill。Butatthismomenttheruralguardseizedhimbythecollar。MonsieurHomaiscameoutofhisshop，andMereLefrangois，inthemidstofthecrowd，seemedtobeperorating。
　　“Madame!madame!“criedFelicite，runningin，“it’sabominable!“
　　Andthepoorgirl，deeplymoved，handedherayellowpaperthatshehadjusttornoffthedoor。Emmareadwithaglancethatallherfurniturewasforsale。
　　Thentheylookedatoneanothersilently。Theservantandmistresshadnosecretonefromtheother。AtlastFelicitesighed——
　　“IfIwereyou，madame，IshouldgotoMonsieurGuillaumin。“
　　“Doyouthink——“
　　Andthisquestionmeanttosay——
　　“Youwhoknowthehousethroughtheservant，hasthemasterspokensometimesofme？“
　　“Yes，you’ddowelltogothere。“
　　Shedressed，putonherblackgown，andherhoodwithjetbeads，andthatshemightnotbeseentherewasstillacrowdonthePlace，shetookthepathbytheriver，outsidethevillage。
　　Shereachedthenotary’sgatequitebreathless。Theskywassombre，andalittlesnowwasfalling。Atthesoundofthebell，Theodoreinaredwaistcoatappearedonthesteps；hecametoopenthedooralmostfamiliarly，astoanacquaintance，andshowedherintothedining-room。
　　Alargeporcelainstovecrackledbeneathacactusthatfilledupthenicheinthewall，andinblackwoodframesagainsttheoak-stainedpaperhungSteuben’s“Esmeralda“andSchopin’s“Potiphar。“Theready-laidtable，thetwosilverchafing-dishes，thecrystaldoor-knobs，theparquetandthefurniture，allshonewithascrupulous，Englishcleanliness；thewindowswereornamentedateachcornerwithstainedglass。
　　“Nowthis，“thoughtEmma，“isthedining-roomIoughttohave。“
　　Thenotarycameinpressinghispalm-leafdressing-gowntohisbreastwithhisleftarm，whilewiththeotherhandheraisedandquicklyputonagainhisbrownvelvetcap，pretentiouslycockedontherightside，whencelookedouttheendsofthreefaircurlsdrawnfromthebackofthehead，followingthelineofhisbaldskull。
　　Afterhehadofferedheraseathesatdowntobreakfast，apologisingprofuselyforhisrudeness。
　　“Ihavecome，“shesaid，“tobegyou，sir——“
　　“What，madame？Iamlistening。“
　　Andshebeganexplainingherpositiontohim。MonsieurGuillauminknewit，beingsecretlyassociatedwiththelinendraper，fromwhomhealwaysgotcapitalfortheloansonmortgagesthathewasaskedtomake。
　　Soheknewandbetterthansheherselfthelongstoryofthebills，smallatfirst，bearingdifferentnamesasendorsers，madeoutatlongdates，andconstantlyreneweduptotheday，when，gatheringtogetheralltheprotestedbills，theshopkeeperhadbiddenhisfriendVincarttakeinhisownnameallthenecessaryproceedings，notwishingtopassforatigerwithhisfellow-citizens。
　　ShemingledherstorywithrecriminationsagainstLheureux，towhichthenotaryrepliedfromtimetotimewithsomeinsignificantword。Eatinghiscutletanddrinkinghistea，heburiedhischininhissky-bluecravat，intowhichwerethrusttwodiamondpins，heldtogetherbyasmallgoldchain；andhesmiledasingularsmile，inasugary，ambiguousfashion。Butnoticingthatherfeetweredamp，hesaid——
　　“Dogetclosertothestove；putyourfeetupagainsttheporcelain。“
　　Shewasafraidofdirtyingit。Thenotaryrepliedinagallanttone——
　　“Beautifulthingsspoilnothing。“
　　Thenshetriedtomovehim，and，growingmovedherself，shebegantellinghimaboutthepoornessofherhome，herworries，herwants。Hecouldunderstandthat；anelegantwoman!and，withoutleavingoffeating，hehadturnedcompletelyroundtowardsher，sothathiskneebrushedagainstherboot，whosesolecurledroundasitsmokedagainstthestove。
　　Butwhensheaskedforathousandsous，heclosedhislips，anddeclaredhewasverysorryhehadnothadthemanagementofherfortunebefore，fortherewerehundredsofwaysveryconvenient，evenforalady，ofturninghermoneytoaccount。Theymight，eitherintheturf-peatsofGrumesnilorbuilding-groundatHavre，almostwithoutrisk，haveventuredonsomeexcellentspeculations；andheletherconsumeherselfwithrageatthethoughtofthefabuloussumsthatshewouldcertainlyhavemade。
　　“Howwasit，“hewenton，“thatyoudidn’tcometome？“
　　“Ihardlyknow，“shesaid。
　　“Why，hey？DidIfrightenyousomuch？ItisI，onthecontrary，whooughttocomplain。Wehardlyknowoneanother；yetIamverydevotedtoyou。Youdonotdoubtthat，Ihope？“
　　Heheldouthishand，tookhers，covereditwithagreedykiss，thenhelditonhisknee；andheplayeddelicatelywithherfingerswhilsthemurmuredathousandblandishments。Hisinsipidvoicemurmuredlikearunningbrook；alightshoneinhiseyesthroughtheglimmeringofhisspectacles，andhishandwasadvancingupEmma’ssleevetopressherarm。Shefeltagainsthercheekhispantingbreath。Thismanoppressedherhorribly。
　　Shesprangupandsaidtohim——
　　“Sir，Iamwaiting。“
　　“Forwhat？“saidthenotary，whosuddenlybecameverypale。
　　“Thismoney。“
　　“But——“Then，yieldingtotheoutburstoftoopowerfuladesire，“Well，yes!“
　　Hedraggedhimselftowardsheronhisknees，regardlessofhisdressing-gown。
　　“Forpity’ssake，stay。Iloveyou!“
　　Heseizedherbyherwaist。MadameBovary’sfaceflushedpurple。
　　Sherecoiledwithaterriblelook，crying——
　　“Youaretakingashamelessadvantageofmydistress，sir!Iamtobepitied——nottobesold。“
　　Andshewentout。
　　Thenotaryremainedquitestupefied，hiseyesfixedonhisfineembroideredslippers。Theywerealovegift，andthesightofthematlastconsoledhim。Besides，hereflectedthatsuchanadventuremighthavecarriedhimtoofar。
　　“Whatawretch!whatascoundrel!whataninfamy!“shesaidtoherself，asshefledwithnervousstepsbeneaththeaspensofthepath。Thedisappointmentofherfailureincreasedtheindignationofheroutragedmodesty；itseemedtoherthatProvidencepursuedherimplacably，and，strengtheningherselfinherpride，shehadneverfeltsomuchesteemforherselfnorsomuchcontemptforothers。Aspiritofwarfaretransformedher。Shewouldhavelikedtostrikeallmen，tospitintheirfaces，tocrushthem，andshewalkedrapidlystraighton，pale，quivering，maddened，searchingtheemptyhorizonwithtear-dimmedeyes，andasitwererejoicinginthehatethatwaschokingher。
　　Whenshesawherhouseanumbnesscameoverher。Shecouldnotgoon；andyetshemust。Besides，whithercouldsheflee？
　　Felicitewaswaitingforheratthedoor。“Well？“
　　“No!“saidEmma。
　　AndforaquarterofanhourthetwoofthemwentoverthevariouspersonsinYonvillewhomightperhapsbeinclinedtohelpher。ButeachtimethatFelicitenamedsomeoneEmmareplied——
　　“Impossible!theywillnot!“
　　“Andthemaster’llsoonbein。“
　　“Iknowthatwellenough。Leavemealone。“
　　Shehadtriedeverything；therewasnothingmoretobedonenow；
　　andwhenCharlescameinshewouldhavetosaytohim——
　　“Goaway!Thiscarpetonwhichyouarewalkingisnolongerours。
　　Inyourownhouseyoudonotpossessachair，apin，astraw，anditisI，poorman，whohaveruinedyou。“
　　Thentherewouldbeagreatsob；nexthewouldweepabundantly，andatlast，thesurprisepast，hewouldforgiveher。
　　“Yes，“shemurmured，grindingherteeth，“hewillforgiveme，hewhowouldgiveamillionifIwouldforgivehimforhavingknownme!Never!never!“
　　ThisthoughtofBovary’ssuperioritytoherexasperatedher。
　　Then，whethersheconfessedordidnotconfess，presently，immediately，to-morrow，hewouldknowthecatastropheallthesame；soshemustwaitforthishorriblescene，andbeartheweightofhismagnanimity。ThedesiretoreturntoLheureux’sseizedher——whatwouldbetheuse？Towritetoherfather——itwastoolate；andperhaps，shebegantorepentnowthatshehadnotyieldedtothatother，whensheheardthetrotofahorseinthealley。Itwashe；hewasopeningthegate；hewaswhiterthantheplasterwall。Rushingtothestairs，sheranoutquicklytothesquare；andthewifeofthemayor，whowastalkingtoLestiboudoisinfrontofthechurch，sawhergointothetax-collector’s。