[…] she was becoming terribly sentimental. They had had to exchange miniatures and cut off locks of their hair, and she was now asking him for a ring, a real wedding ring, as a symbol of their eternal union. She often spoke to him about the "bells of evening" or the "voices of nature;" then she would tell him about her mother and ask about his. Rodolphe's mother had been dead for twenty years, but Emma kept consoling him in the affected language she would have used in speaking to a bereaved child; and sometimes she would even look up at the moon and say to him, "I’m sure they’re both up there together, and I know they approve of our love." (II.10.28)
[Monsieur Lheureux] talked with her about the latest items from Paris, about countless feminine novelties; he was extremely obliging and never asked for money. Emma abandoned herself to this easy way of satisfying all her whims. (II.12.12)
"What a fool I am!" he exclaimed, swearing violently. "Just the same, though, she was a pretty mistress!"
And Emma’s beauty, along with all the pleasures of their love, rushed back into his mind.
For a moment he was deeply moved, then he rebelled against her.
"After all," he cried, gesticulating, "I can’t go into exile and saddle myself with a child!" he told himself these things to strengthen his resolution. "And besides, all that trouble and expense […] Oh no! No, by God! That would be too stupid!" (II.12.58)