Then, growing calmer, she at length discovered that she had, no doubt, calumniated him.  But the disparaging of those we love always alienates us from them to some extent.  We must not touch our idols; the gilt sticks to our fingers.

They gradually came to talking more frequently of matters outside their love, and in the letters that Emma wrote him she spoke of flowers, verses, the moon and the stars, naive resources of a waning passion striving to keep itself alive by all external aids.  She was constantly promising herself a profound felicity on her next journey.  Then she confessed to herself that she felt nothing extraordinary.  This disappointment quickly gave way to a new hope, and Emma returned to him more inflamed, more eager than ever.  She undressed brutally, tearing off the thin laces of her corset that nestled around her hips like a gliding snake.  She went on tiptoe, barefooted, to see once more that the door was closed, then, pale, serious, and, without speaking, with one movement, she threw herself upon his breast with a long shudder.

Yet there was upon that brow covered with cold drops, on those quivering lips, in those wild eyes, in the strain of those arms, something vague and dreary that seemed to Leon to glide between them subtly as if to separate them.

He did not dare to question her; but, seeing her so skilled, she must have passed, he thought, through every experience of suffering and of pleasure.  What had once charmed now frightened him a little.  Besides, he rebelled against his absorption, daily more marked, by her personality.  He begrudged Emma this constant victory.  He even strove not to love her; then, when he heard the creaking of her boots, he turned coward, like drunkards at the sight of strong drinks.

She did not fail, in truth, to lavish all sorts of attentions upon him, from the delicacies of food to the coquettries of dress and languishing looks.  She brought roses to her breast from Yonville, which she threw into his face; was anxious about his health, gave him advice as to his conduct; and, in order the more surely to keep her hold on him, hoping perhaps that heaven would take her part, she tied a medal of the Virgin round his neck.  She inquired like a virtuous mother about his companions.  She said to him—­

“Don’t see them; don’t go out; think only of ourselves; love me!”

She would have liked to be able to watch over his life; and the idea occurred to her of having him followed in the streets.  Near the hotel there was always a kind of loafer who accosted travellers, and who would not refuse.  But her pride revolted at this.

“Bah! so much the worse.  Let him deceive me!  What does it matter to me?  As If I cared for him!”

One day, when they had parted early and she was returning alone along the boulevard, she saw the walls of her convent; then she sat down on a form in the shade of the elm-trees.  How calm that time had been!  How she longed for the ineffable sentiments of love that she had tried to figure to herself out of books!  The first month of her marriage, her rides in the wood, the viscount that waltzed, and Lagardy singing, all repassed before her eyes.  And Leon suddenly appeared to her as far off as the others.