were on the river bank, you remember, and I said to you in an
undertone: 'I am going to pitch him into the water.' Then you agreed to
it, you got into the boat. You see that we murdered him together."

"It is not true," she answered. "I was crazy, I don't know what I did,
but I never wanted to kill him. You alone committed the crime."

These denials tortured Laurent. As he had said, the idea of having an
accomplice relieved him. Had he dared, he would have attempted to prove
to himself that all the horror of the murder fell upon Therese. He
more than once felt inclined to beat the young woman, so as to make her
confess that she was the more guilty of the two.

He began striding up and down, shouting and raving, followed by the
piercing eyes of Madame Raquin.

"Ah! The wretch! The wretch!" he stammered in a choking voice, "she
wants to drive me mad. Look, did you not come up to my room one evening,
did you not intoxicate me with your caresses to persuade me to rid
you of your husband? You told me, when I visited you here, that he
displeased you, that he had the odour of a sickly child. Did I think
of all this three years ago? Was I a rascal? I was leading the peaceful
existence of an upright man, doing no harm to anybody. I would not have
killed a fly."

"It was you who killed Camille," repeated Therese with such desperate
obstinacy that she made Laurent lose his head.

"No, it was you, I say it was you," he retorted with a terrible burst
of rage. "Look here, don't exasperate me, or if you do you'll suffer for
it. What, you wretch, have you forgotten everything? You who maddened me
with your caresses! Confess that it was all a calculation in your mind,
that you hated Camille, and that you had wanted to kill him for a long
time. No doubt you took me as a sweetheart, so as to drive me to put an
end to him."

"It is not true," said she. "What you relate is monstrous. You have no
right to reproach me with my weakness towards you. I can speak in regard
to you, as you speak of me. Before I knew you, I was a good woman, who
never wronged a soul. If I drove you mad, it was you made me madder
still. Listen Laurent, don't let us quarrel. I have too much to reproach
you with."

"What can you reproach me with?" he inquired.

"No, nothing," she answered. "You did not save me from myself, you took
advantage of my surrender, you chose to spoil my life. I forgive you
all that. But, in mercy, do not accuse me of killing Camill