furious and
incessant work. He now remained obstinately, for whole days at a time,
alone in the study, sometimes passing even the nights there, going over
old documents, to revise all his works on heredity. It seemed as if a
sort of frenzy had seized him to assure himself of the legitimacy of his
hopes, to force science to give him the certainty that humanity could be
remade--made a higher, a healthy humanity. He no longer left the house,
he abandoned his patients even, and lived among his papers, without air
or exercise. And after a month of this overwork, which exhausted him
without appeasing his domestic torments, he fell into such a state of
nervous exhaustion that illness, for some time latent, declared itself
at last with alarming violence.

Pascal, when he rose in the morning, felt worn out with fatigue, wearier
and less refreshed than he had been on going to bed the night before. He
constantly had pains all over his body; his limbs failed him, after
five minutes' walk; the slightest exertion tired him; the least movement
caused him intense pain. At times the floor seemed suddenly to sway
beneath his feet. He had a constant buzzing in his ears, flashes of
light dazzled his eyes. He took a loathing for wine, he had no longer
any appetite, and his digestion was seriously impaired. Then, in the
midst of the apathy of his constantly increasing idleness he would have
sudden fits of aimless activity. The equilibrium was destroyed, he
had at times outbreaks of nervous irritability, without any cause. The
slightest emotion brought tears to his eyes. Finally, he would shut
himself up in his room, and give way to paroxysms of despair so violent
that he would sob for hours at a time, without any immediate cause of
grief, overwhelmed simply by the immense sadness of things.

In the early part of December Pascal had a severe attack of neuralgia.
Violent pains in the bones of the skull made him feel at times as if his
head must split. Old Mme. Rougon, who had been informed of his illness,
came to inquire after her son. But she went straight to the kitchen,
wishing to have a talk with Martine first. The latter, with a
heart-broken and terrified air, said to her that monsieur must certainly
be going mad; and she told her of his singular behavior, the continual
tramping about in his room, the locking of all the drawers, the rounds
which he made from the top to the bottom of the house, until two o'clock
in the morning. Tears fill