PART THREE

CHAPTER ONE

While Monsieur Leon was studying for his law degree in Paris, the other students regarded him as looking like quite a gentleman. He studied well, did not spend his money on foolish things, as the others sometimes did, and was well liked by his tutors.

Many times, when he was reading or sitting under a tree in the evening, he would begin to think of Emma. But, after time, he began to forget her, and finally stopped thinking of her completely.

Now, seeing her again at the opera house, after three years, his love for her returned. This time, he thought, he must have her. That evening, after saying goodbye to the Bovarys, he followed them, and saw them walk into the Red Cross Hotel. He then returned home, thinking of a plan to charm Emma.

At five o'clock the next day, he walked into the hotel, nervous to see Madame Bovary again. Emma looked content to see him, and apologized for having forgotten to tell him where they were staying.

He told her he had spent the morning calling at every hotel in town to find her. They talked in her room for some time. He told her he had been bored all the time he was a student. She told him about her worries. She did not tell him she loved another man; he did not tell her he had forgotten her.

"Many times I wrote to you, and then tore up the letter," he told her.

She turned away to smile.

"I loved you!" he exclaimed.

After a long pause, she said, "I always suspected it."

And then they spoke of their past time together in Yonville.

"You don't know how I used to think about you," he told her.

"Poor Leon!" she said, holding out her hand to him. He kissed it gently.

They talked late into the evening. He admitted that he had been in love with her since their first meeting. He often thought about the happiness they would have shared if they had met earlier in life.

"I have thought of that sometimes," she said.

"What a dream," he said quietly. "Why shouldn't we begin again now?"

"No, my friend," she replied. "I am too old, you're too young. Forget me. Other women will love you ... you will love them."

"Not as I love you!" he cried.

"What a child you are! We must be reasonable."

Was she speaking the truth when she said those words? Emma did not know herself; perhaps she did love him. No man had ever looked so handsome as Leon did now.

Emma pretended to look at the clock.

"How late it is!"

He understood her meaning.

And this was her last chance with him. She was leaving the next day.

"Leaving?" exclaimed Leon.

"Yes."

"But I must see you again," he said. "There's something I want to tell you ... 

"What is it?"

"Something—important. Something very serious. You haven't understood me? You're laughing at me. Please, let me see you once more—just once!"

"Well ... eleven tomorrow in the church."

"I shall be there," he cried.

As they stood up, he kissed her slowly on the neck.

"Oh, you're crazy, you're crazy!" she cried, as she laughed.

Leon stepped back to leave. He stopped at the door and whispered, "Till tomorrow!"

That night, Emma wrote him a long letter, explaining why they should not meet the next morning. But when she finished writing, she realized that she didn't know Leon's address.

"I'll give it to him myself," she said. "He'll come."

The next morning, Leon awoke quite early. "Too soon still!" he said after he looked at the clock; it was nine o'clock.

He read through a magazine, went out, smoked a cigar, wandered through the streets, and then decided it was time to go to Notre Dame to meet his dear Emma.

He arrived. He looked around for her, but she had not yet come. He soon heard someone arrive—she had come! Emma was pale in the face, walking quickly.

"Read this!" she said, holding out the letter she had written—"No, don't!"—and she took it back. Then she sat down to pray. Leon was annoyed at her behavior. But then, he thought she looked quite charming, sitting quietly with her eyes closed. Then, he became impatient.

Emma was praying for an answer. She could not decide what to do about Leon. She stood up, and the two walked out of the church.

"Where are we going?" said Emma.

He walked without answering her.

"Oh, Leon! Really—I don't know—whether I should ... "

"Why not? Love affairs are common in Paris!"

And that comment decided her.

At about six o'clock, Emma arrived at her hotel again.

(end of section)