"
The servant appeared. Emma understood, and asked how much money would be
wanted to put a stop to the proceedings.
"It is too late."
"But if I brought you several thousand francs--a quarter of the sum--a
third--perhaps the whole?"
"No; it's no use!"
And he pushed her gently towards the staircase.
"I implore you, Monsieur Lheureux, just a few days more!" She was
sobbing.
"There! tears now!"
"You are driving me to despair!"
"What do I care?" said he, shutting the door.
Chapter Seven
She was stoical the next day when Maitre Hareng, the bailiff, with two
assistants, presented himself at her house to draw up the inventory for
the distraint.
They began with Bovary's consulting-room, and did not write down
the phrenological head, which was considered an "instrument of his
profession"; but in the kitchen they counted the plates; the saucepans,
the chairs, the candlesticks, and in the bedroom all the nick-nacks on
the whatnot. They examined her dresses, the linen, the dressing-room;
and her whole existence to its most intimate details, was, like a corpse
on whom a post-mortem is made, outspread before the eyes of these three
men.
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