And neither Madame Bovary nor Rodolphe answered him, whilst at the slightest movement made by them he drew near, saying, “I beg your pardon!” and raised his hat.
When they reached the farrier’s house, instead of following the road up to the fence, Rodolphe suddenly turned down a path, drawing with him Madame Bovary. He called out—
“Good evening, Monsieur Lheureux! See you again presently.”
“How you got rid of him!” she said, laughing.
“Why,” he went on, “allow oneself to be intruded upon by others? And as today I have the happiness of being with you—”
Emma blushed. He did not finish his sentence. Then he talked of the fine weather and of the pleasure of walking on the grass. A few daisies had sprung up again.
“Here are some pretty Easter daisies,” he said, “and enough of them to furnish oracles to all the amorous maids in the place.”
He added, “Shall I pick some? What do you think?”
“Are you in love?” she asked, coughing a little.
“H’m, h’m! who knows?” answered Rodolphe.
The meadow began to fill, and the housewives hustled you with their great umbrellas, their baskets, and their babies. One had often to get out of the way of a long file of country folk, servant-maids with blue stockings, flat shoes, silver rings, and who smelt of milk, when one passed close to them. They walked along holding one another by the hand, and thus they spread over the whole field from the row of open trees to the banquet tent.