“Besides, I shall want,” she went on, “a trunk⁠—not too heavy⁠—handy.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. About three feet by a foot and a half, as they are being made just now.”

“And a travelling bag.”

“Decidedly,” thought Lheureux, “there’s a row on here.”

“And,” said Madame Bovary, taking her watch from her belt, “take this; you can pay yourself out of it.”

But the tradesman cried out that she was wrong; they knew one another; did he doubt her? What childishness!

She insisted, however, on his taking at least the chain, and Lheureux had already put it in his pocket and was going, when she called him back.

“You will leave everything at your place. As to the cloak”⁠—she seemed to be reflecting⁠—“do not bring it either; you can give me the maker’s address, and tell him to have it ready for me.”