Chapter

 1 Int |        Flaubert, the childhood friend of his mother and his uncle
 2 Int |     still clear, he wrote to a friend: “I am always thinking of
 3 III |    year, had known an intimate friend of the baroness’s father,
 4 III |        a heart, the heart of a friend; that it was aware of her
 5 V   |     the weapon, kissed her new friend tenderly and they set out
 6 VII |       a long silence: “But, my friend, perhaps we could put it
 7 VIII|        her at once. “This is a friend,” she thought.~The Comte
 8 IX  | treachery of the comtesse, her friend, disgusted her. Everyone,
 9 IX  |        one does the death of a friend.~She resolved, however,
10 IX  |     been the baroness’ dearest friend.~Then a suspicion, which
11 IX  |   threw herself sobbing on her friend’s shoulder. Women in black
12 X   |       from the peasants, whose friend he was, of the harshness
13 XIII|     Lamare that an old lady, a friend of his mother’s, is downstairs,