"Oh, not yet; let us stay," said Bovary. "Her hair's undone; this is going to be tragic."
But the mad scene did not at all interest Emma, and the acting of the singer seemed to her exaggerated.
"She screams too loud," said she, turning to Charles, who was listening.
"Yes—perhaps—a little," he replied, undecided between the frankness of his pleasure and his respect for his wife's opinion.
Then with a sigh Léon said:
"The heat is—"
"Unbearable! Yes!"
"Do you feel unwell?" asked Bovary.
"Yes, I am stifling; let us go."
Monsieur Léon put her long lace shawl carefully about her shoulders, and all three went off to sit down in the harbour, in the open air, outside the windows of a café.