Four o’clock
Goodbye ! '' He pressed her hand , but it felt quite lifeless . Emma had no strength left for any sentiment . Four o'clock struck , and she rose to return to Yonville , mechanically obeying the force of old habits . The weather was fine . It was one of those March days , clear and sharp , when the sun shines in a perfectly white sky . The Rouen folk , in Sunday-clothes , were walking about with happy looks .