a tomb discovered in an inn where they made use of it as a
horse-trough."

After this, Bouvard took up the two urns filled with a substance which
consisted of human dust, and he drew the phials up to his eyes, for the
purpose of showing the way the Romans used to shed tears in it.

"But one sees only dismal things at your house!"

Indeed it was a rather grave subject for a lady. So he next drew out of
a case several copper coins, together with a silver denarius.

Madame Bordin asked the notary what sum this would be worth at the
present day.

The coat of mail which he was examining slipped out of his fingers; some
of the links snapped.

Bouvard stifled his annoyance. He had even the politeness to unfasten
the halberd, and, bending forward, raising his arms and stamping with
his heels, he made a show of hamstringing a horse, stabbing as if with a
bayonet and overpowering an enemy.

The widow inwardly voted him a rough person.

She went into raptures over the shell chest of drawers.

The cat of St. Allyre much astonished her, the pear in the decanter not
quite so much; then, when she came to the chimney-piece: "Ha! here's a
hat that would need mending!"

Three holes, marks of bullets, pierced its brims.

It was the head-piece of a robber chief under the Directory, David de la
Bazoque, caught in the act of treason, and immediately put to death.

"So much the better! They did right," said Madame Bordin.

Marescot smiled disdainfully as he gazed at the different objects. He
did not understand this galoche having been the sign of a hosier, nor
the purport of the earthenware cask--a common cider-keg--and, to be
candid, the St. Peter was lamentable with his drunkard's physiognomy.

Madame Bordin made this observation:

"All the same, it must have cost you a good deal?"

"Oh! not too much, not too much."

A slater had given it to him for fifteen francs.

After this, she found fault on the score of propriety with the low dress
of the lady in the powdered wig.

"Where is the harm," replied Bouvard, "when one possesses something
beautiful?" And he added in a lower tone: "Just as you are yourself, I'm
sure."

(The notary turned his back on them, and studied the branches of the
Croixmare family.)

She made no response but began to play with her long gold chain. Her
bosom swelled out the black taffeta of her corsage, and, with her
eyelashes slightly drawn together, she lowered her chin like a
turtle-dove bri