| | Madame Bovary (15th Dec 22 at 1:12am UTC) |   | The abb rose to set the cross; and, stretching her neck hungrily, she pressed her lips to the body of Christ, and with all her dying strength kissed her with the greatest kiss of her life. Then he began to recite the scriptures, "May the Lord be merciful" and "May the Lord forgive sins." He dipped the thumb of his right hand in the holy oil and began the anointing ceremony. First, he anointed her eyes with the holy oil, so that she would not be greedy for the vanity of the world. Then he anointed her nostrils, so that she would not linger over the warm fragrance and lingering love. Third, he anointed her lips, so that her mouth would not lie, complain in pride, and make; Four, on her hands, so that she might not pick the hard and the soft; and last, on the soles of her feet, so that she might not run so fast when she had a tryst, but now she could not walk. The abb wiped his own fingers, threw the cotton-wool ball dipped in the holy oil into the fire, and came and sat down beside the dying woman, telling her that it was time to unite his suffering with the suffering of Christ and wait for forgiveness from heaven. With his last words, he placed a blessed candle in her hand, symbolizing that she would be bathed in the light of heaven. Emma was too weak to close her fingers, and the candle would have fallen to the ground if it hadn't been for Mr. Bunixian. But her face was not as pale as it had been before, and her expression was calm, as if the sacrament of death could really bring back life. Of course, the priest will not turn a blind eye. He even explained to Bovary that sometimes the Lord could extend a person's life in order to save his soul. Char remembered the day when she, too, was dying like this, and was brought back to life after receiving the Eucharist. Perhaps one should not despair,x56 line pipe, he thought to himself. Indeed. She looked around slowly, as if from a dream, and then asked for her mirror in a clear voice. She took the picture for a long time until she was in tears. Then she looked up, sighed, and fell back on the pillow. Her chest rose and fell rapidly at once. Her tongue was all out of her mouth, and her eyes were still rolling, as dark as two burnt-out glass covers, and one would have thought she was dead, but she was still panting so hard that her chest rose and fell faster and faster, so fast that it was frightening, as if she had to jump when her soul was out of body. Felicity was in front of the cross, and the apothecary bent his legs, but Mr. Caniway looked blankly at the square. Bunyxian began to pray again, his face resting on the edge of the bed, and his black Taoist robe was so long that it dragged the floor. Char knelt opposite and held out his arm to Emma. He seized her hands. Holding it tightly, uns s32760 plate ,uns s32750 sheet, her heart beat and he shivered like an aftershock of a building collapse. The dying gasp grew louder, and the abb's prayers became rapid-fire; the prayers and the irrepressible sobs of the Char rose and fell one after another, and sometimes the sobs were drowned in the prayers, and only the monotonous Latin letters were heard, as if they were tolling the death knell. Suddenly the sound of wooden shoes was heard on the path by the river, and the sound of wooden sticks on the ground, and a hoarse voice sang: The weather is hot, little girl. I'm dreaming about my lover. Emma sat up like a zombie with an electric shock, her hair dishevelled and stunned. Sickle-scythes cut the heads of grain, Don't be afraid of tiredness when gathering ears of wheat. Sister Nan bent down. Pick up the wheat ears and go down to the field ditch. Blind person She exclaimed. Emma laughed unbearably, madly, desperately, believing that eternal darkness was as terrible as the ugly face of a blind man. It was very windy that day. Blow the short skirt up! There was a convulsion and she fell on the mattress. Everyone went over to see that she had died. Section 9 When people die, it seems that there is always a numbing feeling, which makes it difficult to understand and believe how life has disappeared. But when Char saw her motionless, he threw himself on her and shouted: "Farewell!"! Farewell! Omer and Caniway pulled him out of the room. You have to restrain yourself! "Yes," he struggled. " I understand. I'll be fine. But let me go! I want to see her! She is my wife! So he began to cry. "Cry," continued the apothecary, "have a good cry, and you will be better!" Char, who had become more fragile than a child, was dragged downstairs into the hall, and Mr. Omer went home.
When he met a blind man in the square, he dragged to Rongzhen to ask for anti-inflammatory ointment, and when he met someone, he asked where the pharmacist lived. Come on! Do you think I have nothing to do to beat the dog! Cough! Go to hell and come back when I'm free! He hurried into the pharmacy. He would write two letters, he would give Bovary a sedative, he would invent a lie to cover up the poisoning, and he would write an article for the Lighthouse, not to mention the people who wanted to ask him for information, and they heard it from him until they got to Yonville. When Emma made vanilla cheese, she mistook arsenic for sugar, and Omer went back to the Bovary house again. He found Char sitting alone (Mr. Caniway had just left) in an armchair, near the window, looking like an idiot at the flagstone floor of the hall. "Now," said the apothecary, "you should fix the time for the ceremony." "Do what?"? What ceremony? Then he stammered and winced: "Oops!"! No, okay? No, I want to keep her. Unhurriedly, Omer picked up the watering pot on the shelf and went to water the sunflower. Ah! "Thank you," Char said. "How kind of you!" He could not go on, for the apothecary's gesture of watering aroused in him an infinite sadness of the past, which made him breathless. In order to share his worries, Omer thought he might as well talk about gardening and say that plants need water. Char bowed his head in agreement. Besides, the good times are coming. "Ah," said Bovary. The pharmacist had nothing to say and gently opened the small curtain on the window pane. Look, here comes Mr. Duasch. Char mechanically added, "Mr. Duwasch is coming." Omer dared not speak to him any more about the funeral,347 stainless steel, but the priest's words were still in effect. Char shut himself up in the consulting room, picked up his pen, and sobbed for a long time before he wrote this:. lksteelpipe.com | |
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