e not yet too late. And the letter concluded
with the reflection that evil conduct was always punished in the end.

From the first sentence Pascal felt that this anonymous letter came from
his mother. Old Mme. Rougon must have dictated it; he could hear in it
the very inflections of her voice. But after having begun the letter
angry and indignant, he finished it pale and trembling, seized by the
shiver which now passed through him continually and without apparent
cause. The letter was right, it enlightened him cruelly regarding the
source of his mental distress, showing him that it was remorse for
keeping Clotilde with him, old and poor as he was. He got up and walked
over to a mirror, before which he stood for a long time, his eyes
gradually filling with tears of despair at sight of his wrinkles and his
white beard. The feeling of terror which arose within him, the mortal
chill which invaded his heart, was caused by the thought that separation
had become necessary, inevitable. He repelled the thought, he felt
that he would never have the strength for a separation, but it still
returned; he would never now pass a single day without being assailed by
it, without being torn by the struggle between his love and his reason
until the terrible day when he should become resigned, his strength and
his tears exhausted. In his present weakness, he trembled merely at the
thought of one day having this courage. And all was indeed over, the
irrevocable had begun; he was filled with fear for Clotilde, so young
and so beautiful, and all there was left him now was the duty of saving
her from himself.

Then, haunted by every word, by every phrase of the letter, he tortured
himself at first by trying to persuade himself that she did not love
him, that all she felt for him was pity and gratitude. It would make the
rupture more easy to him, he thought, if he were once convinced that she
sacrificed herself, and that in keeping her with him longer he was only
gratifying his monstrous selfishness. But it was in vain that he studied
her, that he subjected her to proofs, she remained as tender and devoted
as ever, making the dreaded decision still more difficult. Then he
pondered over all the causes that vaguely, but ceaselessly urged their
separation. The life which they had been leading for months past, this
life without ties or duties, without work of any sort, was not good. He
thought no longer of himself, he considered himself good for not