She seemed not to hear him. And he went on-"Always very busy, no doubt; for he and I are certainly the busiest

people in the parish. But he is doctor of the body," he added with a

thick laugh, "and I of the soul."

She fixed her pleading eyes upon the priest. "Yes," she said, "you

solace all sorrows."

"Ah! don't talk to me of it, Madame Bovary. This morning I had to go to

Bas-Diauville for a cow that was ill; they thought it was under a spell.

All their cows, I don't know how it is--But pardon me! Longuemarre and

Boudet! Bless me! Will you leave off?"

And with a bound he ran into the church.

The boys were just then clustering round the large desk, climbing over

the precentor's footstool, opening the missal; and others on tiptoe were

just about to venture into the confessional. But the priest suddenly

distributed a shower of cuffs among them. Seizing them by the collars of

their coats, he lifted them from the ground, and deposited them on their

knees on the stones of the choir, firmly, as if he meant planting them

there.

"Yes," said he, when he returned to Emma, unfolding his large cotton

handkerchief, one corner of which he put between his teeth, "farmers are

much to be pitied."

"Others, too," she replied.

"Assuredly. Town-labourers, for example."

"It is not they--"

"Pardon! I've there known poor mothers of families, virtuous women, I

assure you, real saints, who wanted even bread."

"But those," replied Emma, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she

spoke, "those, Monsieur le Cure, who have bread and have no--"

"Fire in the winter," said the priest.

"Oh, what does that matter?"

"What! What does it matter? It seems to me that when one has firing and

food--for, after all--"

"My God! my God!" she sighed.

"It is indigestion, no doubt? You must get home, Madame Bovary; drink

a little tea, that will strengthen you, or else a glass of fresh water

with a little moist sugar."

"Why?" And she looked like one awaking from a dream.

"Well, you see, you were putting your hand to your forehead. I thought

you felt faint." Then, bethinking himself, "But you were asking me

something? What was it? I really don't remember."

"I? Nothing! nothing!" repeated Emma.

And the glance she cast round her slowly fell upon the old man in the

cassock. They looked at one another face to face without speaking.




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